


The Years are Long

by ARWalsh



Series: Long Years and Many Different Lives [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Minor Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-08 23:55:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6880687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARWalsh/pseuds/ARWalsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story follows Talia Trevelyan and her companions throughout the years in the Inquisition. How they became friends and the memories they shared on their journey across Orlais and Fereldan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Woman of Blood and Spices

**Author's Note:**

> The Iron Bull's perspective

            The Iron Bull was not sure what to make of “Lady Trevelyan” when he first met her. The storm coast had been a rainy shit hole; at least it came as advertised. He was knocking a ‘vint’ to the ground, ready to deliver a killing blow, when a slight woman appeared from the shadows. Drawing one of the glistening daggers across the man’s neck, she didn’t even flinch as her face was sprayed with blood. Before he could blink she was off, a twirling shadow. Yeah that was the kind of woman he could get behind. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the way she moved in gorgeous arching patterns and then precise kill strikes. She moved with the kind of grace that came from years of practice. Obviously the “Lady” part of her name was simply a title, having meant very little to her. It was like watching art.

            When it was over and everyone had time to breathe he approached her. Now that she wasn’t just a moving blur he could see she was truly tiny. Standing barely to his pectorals, she had to look up a considerable amount to meet his eyes. Two things surprised him. Not many had the balls to look up at and hold eye contact. He was a scary guy; Bull would never deny that he used it to his advantage. Even fewer still, looked up at him and managed to look unimpressed. The way her eyes studied him was a quiet tell of an intelligent wariness. The armor she wore was made of simple leather and she bled from a wound on her left shoulder. The arrow still clutched in her hand from where she’d pushed it through. Well shit, she just had to be a red head too.

            The hits just kept coming with the tiny Marcher. When he’d spoken about the Ben-Hassrath she didn’t miss a beat. Clearly somewhat knowledgeable on the topic, that was unnerving. Asking the right questions, he knew from her facial expression that she was above average intelligence. She knew to withhold information but give enough not to set off alarm bells. Keeping a measured distance from the topics discussed but making sure her people would be safe. Deep down, Bull knew that being on the wrong side of the woman would be dangerous. After she was satisfied, Talia Trevelyan welcomed him to the Inquisition with open arms.

            That was a few weeks ago. Now he stood in the training area of Haven watching her go through the motions. Over time he learned that Talia was not the same person to every individual. To the masses she was either a heretic or a savior. To the Seeker woman, Cassandra, they were developing a tentative but fruitful friendship. Varric saw her as someone to match wits with and drink god awful liquor. Cullen saw her not only as a friend but a reliable source of solace from himself. Vivienne saw a woman she meant to bend to her will but found only hardened resistance. Sera saw someone undyingly compassionate, willing to help those in need. Solas found her both an intellectual rival and good conversationalist. To Bull above all else she was just boss.

            When she approached after sparring with Cassandra, he was surprised to see she wore a shit eating grin. The scar that dented in her upper lip pulling at her face slightly gave her the roguish look he associated with her.

            “Bull,” she smiled up at him, “Can I ask you a question?” She questioned in her light voice. Snorting, Bull leaned back slightly. With Talia there was no such thing as one question. On their way back from the Storm Coast she’d spent as much time as possible learning everything she could about his crew. Krem was able to keep up with her. The two spent time trading insults and speaking general nonsense. It was ingrained in her personality, the need for knowledge.

            “Sure Boss, but let’s not pretend you’re not here to ask one.” He rubbed at his sore shoulder. Talia clasped dainty hands behind her back and settled into a friendly stance.

            “My mother spoke of the Ben-Hassrath often,” She paused carefully, “But I rarely heard her speak of Par Vollen. What’s it like there?” Now that caught him off guard. It seemed he might have overlooked a few things about the boss. Easily catching the look on his face, Talia took a small step back. Of course the girl would be worried about overstepping her bounds.

            “For one thing it’s fucking hot,” He stated gruffly, that drew a tinkling laugh from her. Green eyes looked up at him expectantly. Now that he was looking he noticed the almost unnatural vibrancy to them. Bull wondered what people would do if they knew their Herald was half-Qunari. Some he guessed wouldn’t give a rat’s ass, while others might try and have her killed for it.

            “Well yes, it is a city on a tropical island.” Tossing one of the thick plated braids of her hair over her shoulder, he considered if she might be hiding horns. It would explain why she typically wore a cowl on top of the intricate thick braids.

            “The thing I miss most is the spices. Nothing this far south has any spice to it. It all tastes as though you’re eating dirt.” He woefully rubbed the back of his head. Talia considered his words, eyebrows knitting. Bull did miss a few things from home, other things not so much.

            “I could arrange to have my family send some spices this way. Maker knows that I have had enough tasteless sludge to last me a lifetime,” Considering her options, Talia once again drifted away in her mind.

            “Whatever you decide Boss,” He left it open for consideration.

            When she’d dragged him up to her private cabin, he’d been leery. The look on her face was enough to convince him to follow without much resistance. The modest cabin had few personal effects. A writing desk with letters strewn across it caught his attention. He knew she must be homesick. Talia couldn’t be that much older than twenty, too young. Then he smelled it. The warm aroma of rich spices was filling the room. Glancing down he noticed she was setting up two bowls on a matt on the floor. The way she moved around the room with ease, setting it up like he was family reminded him of Tama. Every motion was considered and reserved for the two of them, no one else. The bowls were placed orderly next to spoons. Ladling the steaming stew into the bowls she gestured for him to sit.

            It had been a long time since Bull had food that reminded him of home. The spice burned the back of his throat and his eyes watered. He hadn’t felt this kind of comfort in a long time. Talia raised a hand to her head as if to scratch an inch and then froze. Weighing her options, Bull was surprised when she yanked out the bands that kept her hair in place. They fell around her and sure enough, there were horns. They were curled like a ram’s. Sitting farther back than her hairline, they were almost pressed against the skin. He knew cold weather could make them itch something fierce.

            “I figured you already knew since I let it slip about my mom.” She rubbed the base of her horns. Bull laughed and shoved her from across the matt playfully. Taking no offense she shoved back, barely moving him.

            “You hide them pretty well, afraid of what the nobles will say?” He asked in his light tone. The Vashoth girl knew he was intentionally avoiding the fact that she likely hid to protect her mother.

            “Nah, I could care less. Mum might throw a fit though, she was always so scared at the way people would treat me. Dad always said that since they were legally married people pretty much had to kiss our asses.” She took a big spoonful of stew into her mouth. Bull was somewhat bewildered by that statement. A human man, much less a noble, married a Tal-Vashoth. How they managed to pull that off was beyond him. He tried to picture the type of man that took and was coming up blank.

            “You pass as a human, I overlooked it,” he grumbled, still a little sore about that. Chirping out a laugh she looked at him with the kind of kinship he usually associated with the Chargers.

            “Xander, my older brother, looks so human you could never tell,” She explains, all the while talking with her hands. “I am somewhere in the middle. The red hair and skin color are all my dad but I have mum’s eyes and horns. The twins, younger than me, look more like Qunari.” Bull hums picturing younger, greyer versions of Talia.

            “Your dad is one brave son of a bitch,” Is all he can think to say. Setting down her bowl, Talia looked up at him. Even sitting the height difference was laughable.

            “Modest in temper, bold in deed. He romanced her cold and broken heart. Maker knows what he saw in her. Now eat up, can’t have you wasting away from the Fereldan gruel.” Refilling his bowl and handing him a chunk of bread, Tali watched his face. He decided that maybe, just maybe, Talia Trevelyan was a friend.


	2. Rashes and Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Iron Bull's perspective

            They are in the Hinterlands, a day’s hike away from Redcliff when Bull notices it. They’d spent the majority of the day wandering around in tall grass and fields. It wasn’t overly hot but the terrain was rather taxing. Talia kept her mouth shut, simply listening to Sera ramble on about bees. Around the high collar of her armor and spattered across her hands was an angry rash. It appeared that Boss had inherited a number of traits from her mother; thick Qunari skin was clearly one that her genetics skipped over. Bull only had to take a few steps to catch up to her. When he did he could see more obvious signs of discomfort. Jaw clenched and staring straight ahead, she looked rather murderous.

            “Hey boss,” He greeted, “You want to make camp? I think all of us could benefit from a dip in the nearest stream.” Bull ran his hand down his aching shoulder. Talia looked up at him with gratitude. Her jaw unclenched slowly. The tightness in her posture slumped. Behind him even Cassandra gave a sigh of relief.

            “To day has been quite taxing.” Cassandra spoke and shifted her shield a little higher. Talia extended a hand to the woman to help her up a small hill. Gratefully the taller, older woman took it.

            “I don’t do well in the heat, or grasslands.” Tali stated all the while scratching at her neck. Sera laughed at the three of them, looking the liveliest out the group.

            “Ain’t you from the Free Marches?” Sera questioned in a high pitched voice. Talia nodded and the proceded to grimace. Clearly Ostwick hadn’t served her well either.

            “This time of year I would typically be trying to hide inside as much as possible. For some reason the sun turns my skin into a breeding ground for rashes, sunburns, and freckles. The crops my parents grew made my eyes itch and burn,” Talia recounted her youth quietly, “During the spring or autumn months though you could usually find me in a tree or behind our estate tending to the flowers.” She threw her tent to the ground with vigor. Bull could picture her running around barefoot or sitting quietly with her nose in a book.

            After the tents were pitched Cassandra and Talia headed towards the stream nearby. Clean clothes in hand, it was the first time he’d seen either woman look happy all day. Not too long after he heard the sound of a large splash and Cassandra’s snort of disapproval.  For a while he could hear the women murmuring with the ease of friendship. He was glad Boss had found companionship in the tough woman. Talia did not strike him as someone who took to having female friends easily. Sera was chattering on, asking questions about “his women”.  Bull answered them all while he sharpened his blade.

            When the two women made their way back from the stream Bull was surprised to see Talia had her long hair down, unbraided. Dressed in a tunic and leggings, she looked far more comfortable than he’d see her before.

            “Holy shite,” He heard Sera whisper under her breath. Talia wasn’t bothering to hide the horns that curled against her head, likely uncomfortable from the heat. Cassandra, to his surprise, didn’t seem to care.

            “Boss I’ve got horn balm in my bag if you need any,” He called over to her. Looking over at him she nodded in thanks. Pulling out the jar he tossed it over her. Immediately she dipped her fingers in. Rubbing at the base of the horns and working her way up, she did this meticulously.

            “Thanks Bull, I can’t believe I forgot mine back in Haven.” She continued to rub it in. Absent mindedly Cassandra ran her hands through Talia’s hair. In the low light the coppery tint to her hair reminded him of the fire they were sat next to.

            “I can braid your hair for you,” Cassandra stated thoughtfully. Happily Talia handed her the hair brush from her pack. It was oddly intimate to watch the two women sit close and speak of their homes.

            “I used to keep mine shorter than yours,” Talia said, head lulling back lazily. Cassandra gave an easy laugh and she worked out a stubborn knot.

            “Maker knows that I cannot stand having to fight with hair in my eyes.” Running her fingers through the hair she separated it into sections. Thus began the quick methodical process of braiding Talia’s hair. When she was done Cassandra inspected her work, satisfied she scooted away. Thanking her Talia did the same with Cassandra’s rat tail. It was odd to Bull that the two different braids looked so different. Talia’s work was tight, almost military, while Cassandra’s was looser more delicate. If anything he expected the opposite.

            Talia fell asleep by the fire sitting up, pen still clasped in her hand. Papers tucked neatly against her chest. Mouth wide open and snoring softly she looked even younger than usual. Sure when she smiled you could see the beginnings of crow’s feet around her eyes. It was obvious she was far more mature than her actual age. Bull still thought that she was too damn young to be dealing with this shit. She did it with grace and levity. What had the world done to deserve such a person as their savior?

            “I forget that she is only in her twenties,” Cassandra stated from across the fire. Gently the woman pulled Talia over to lean on her shoulder, careful not to wake her. Clearly the two were having the same train of thought.

            “Yeah,” Bull smiled at the tiny redhead, “She’s still a kid under all that sense of duty and compassion. It’ll send her to an early grave.” He stated fondly and stood. Pulling a blanket from Talia’s tent, he tossed it to Cassandra.

            “Sometimes I wish she’d complain more.” Cassandra wrapped the blanket around the girl softly, “Instead she walks around with a rash and blisters on her feet for over a day,” It was said affectionately. Lifting the girl into her arms Cassandra moved towards their tent.

            “Sleep well,” Bull stated and prepared to take first watch.

The next morning when Bull rose he heard soft humming from outside his tent. Light and airy he almost fell back asleep listening to it. Instead he rose, cracking his joints as he went. The Boss was always up first regardless of how much sleep she had. There was always breakfast simmering away on a pot hanging over the campfire. Pushing the flap of the tent open, Bull stepped out into the cool morning air. Today there were storm clouds in the sky and Talia couldn’t look happier about it.

            “Good morning Bull,” She greeted from her perch atop an overturned log. Again she was writing, pen in her left hand and paper steadied by her right. Inky spatters covered her dominate hand, showing that she wrote fast enough that she smudged the ink. Nodding to her, Bull settled at the campfire and made himself a plate of whatever she’d made. It was warm and rich, he wondered if she carried an entire spice cabinet with her. Knowing her, it was likely that she did. The girl was a pack rat. Always looting bodies or bending to cut Elfroot for later use.

            Sera was up next and sat down grumpily next to Talia. Bull had come to the realization that Sera liked the way the young woman treated mornings. It was a way for them to prepare for the day, never rushed. Talia would always allow the young elf to tuck in next to her and fall into a half-sleep at her side. In passing Talia had explained that Sera reminded her of the little sister she’d left behind in Ostwick. It was likely a comfort that she’d found someone to dote over in this hell of a time.

            When Cassandra exited the tent she looked at the other three lazing around the fire. A small curl of the lip told Bull that she wouldn’t push for an early start to the day.

            “Talia,” Cassandra spoke, “What do you plan to do with the mages? Will you conscript them or-” She trailed off, voice still gritty from sleep. Talia looked up and got that thoughtful look on her face before answering.

            “Two of my siblings are mages.” She set down her stationary with care, “So I would prefer they join us of their own accord. There will likely be some issues at first, however I believe that with time we can come to a comfortable existence with them,” She explained, in the morning her Marcher accent was always stronger. Cassandra nodded and thought on her words.

            “Does magic run in your father’s side of the family?” Cassandra asked, curious and practical. Laughing lightly, Talia shift Sera farther into her side. Memories of home lit up her face.

            “Actually my mother is the mage, or well Saarebas.” She glanced over at Bull nervously. At that Cassandra’s interest peaked

            “The Qunari treat their mages much harsher than here in the south, do they not?” She questioned Talia. Weighing her words, Talia made an odd gesture with her small hands. Sometimes her body was her reply.

            “Personally the Qunari are more physically demanding of them. Sewing their mouths shut and chaining them. However they consider this leashing of their power a great sacrifice. In the South they are psychologically demanding of mages. Keeping them in isolation and often refusing the visits of loved ones. Neither one is perfect if you ask me. My mother says she has never encountered another Saarebas outside the Qun. They often don’t live long enough after escape to do so. Sorry Bull,” She mutters quickly. Shrugging Bull considers what growing up must have been like. It was likely a paranoid life one where she didn’t often speak of her mother to outsiders.

            “The twins were taken to the circle shortly after their thirteenth year. Mum was nearly up in arms when the Templars came to escort them. Tavis, my brother, went along quietly which was quite the surprise. Though he did always love a man in uniform. He had never been one to follow authority. Thea on the other hand threw a fit so loud she set some of the finery on fire. Dad got quite the kick out of that. Tavis wrote often, explained the best part was seeing the looks on the faces of the other mages when two Qunari walked in. In another life one of them would likely have been the “Herald”. Count your blessings where you can,” She stated. Cassandra and Bull looked somewhat horrified.

            “You came to the conclave in their place?” Cassandra asked, clearly disturbed. Laughing loudly and startling Sera, she waved her hand dismissively.

            “I most certainly did, neither of them wanted to go. We Trevelyans can be a stubborn lot.” Pure bad luck had directed her to the Inquisition it seemed. Bull shook his head and went back to his meal.

            When the rain finally came Bull huffed. Talia on the other hand grinned and tossed her hands to the sky. The droplets rolled down the skin of her arms. Her head lulled back in pleasure. Well at least she was happy.

            “Nothing is better for the soul than a good rain shower!” She exclaimed. Looking between her companions, she could see some had differing opinions. “It could be worse, at least it isn’t snowing.” She flicked the drenched hair out of her eyes. Bull shrugged and continued to walk beside her. She’d once again left her hair loose. Thinking of the reaction that would get from her advisors, he chuckled quietly. Josephine would likely pass out over the idea. Cullen would be speechless. If he had to guess Red already knew. Once this mess with the mages was over, he supposed that he would see firsthand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talia's family is based off of my own. My mother is a quiet and reserved woman. My father and sister are both wild things.


	3. Whiskey and Wounded Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Iron Bull's Perspective. Takes place after rescuing the mages from Alexius.

            The Boss went missing during an overly hot day in Haven. Everyone, including her advisors, were in a panic. Redcliff was the single biggest shit storm Bull had ever been caught in. That was definitely saying something about his sanity level. On their journey home he noticed the look across Talia’s features was hard and cold. Unlike the normally kind gentle smile she typically wore, there was a thin press of lips. Bull knew that look. He’d seen it on soldiers. The ones scarred deeply by the things they’d seen or done. It carried across nations, a fixture on a warrior’s face. They had obtained the mages but lost a piece of the cheerful girl instead.

            Once they reached Haven she didn’t even bother to tether her horse. She had quickly given the reins to Bull. Cullen in his anger had seen fit to chastise her for allowing the mages free roam. Abominations had been gritted out at least five times in the course of their conversation. Head ducked to her chest, Talia just took his words. They probably went straight to her heart. Talia took everything to heart. Leliana had offered some kind words and the look in Talia’s eyes deepened. She stared at Leliana with such sadness. Reaching out she touched the spymaster on the shoulder and murmured that she had to make sure the other woman was real. Bull didn’t know what she’d seen in the future. It clearly was something he didn’t ever want to live.

            Knowing that trauma effected everyone differently, he didn’t bother to help the others search. If Talia wanted to be found she’d eventually show up.  At the end of the day he retired to his tent next to Krem’s. He was surprised to hear the sound of soft sobs in the tent next door. Listening closely he heard Krem whispering soft words of comfort to the woman. Talia had immediately taken to Krem and him to her. Bull really shouldn’t have been surprised that she went to him for comfort. The two of them were kindred in spirit. Both had a wicked sense of humor, an extremely high tolerance for alcohol, and were both too compassionate. Bull had never admired two people more. In the grand scheme of things the Charger’s tent would be the last place anyone would look. Bull found that he was good with that.

            Ducking his head, Bull peered into Krem’s tent. Talia was nestled against Krem’s chest. The two of them quietly spoke in Tevene. The harshness of the language has not changed since the first time Bull had heard it spoken. He never bothered to learn the language but understood enough to catch a few phrases. Blood everywhere.  Red Lyrium growing out of corpses. Dorian being too kind. Sacrifice. Well wasn’t that just horrifying.

            “You found me!” Talia exclaims, trying to sound light hearted. Instead she sounds drained and so emotionally raw that his heart breaks slightly.

            “Wasn’t looking Boss,” He says simply. There is a bottle of whiskey in her hand. The bottle is almost completely empty. Krem smiles shyly at him to let Bull know he’s got a handle on the situation. He gets it. The broken look on Talia’s face as she observes him is all too much.

            “I’ll go let them know you didn’t get kidnapped or trampled by a druffalo,” He states before closing the flap to the tent. Turning he whistled the tune that Tama had taught him when he was young.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter from Bull's perspective.


	4. Cool Hands and Idle days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's perspective. Takes place a month or so after Redcliff.

            Cullen is decidedly a man of action above all else. He knows that there are things he can control and things he can’t. So when the sky opens up at starts spitting out demons he is at an utter loss. Even more so when they bring in the woman who fell out of the sky. She’s slight but her body shows signs of years of vigorous training. Unconscious and mind somewhere else he realizes how young she is. He is the unusual voice of reason between Cassandra and Leliana on whether or not to keep the prisoner alive. Months later he does not regret it.

            Talia moves through the training area simply observing. Her cheeks are flushed red from the cold and her hair down. Maker knows he and Josephine had quite the shock when she’d returned from the Hinterlands with horns. Quietly she approaches a recruit and corrects his posture and then nods for him to continue. When she reaches him he can see the bags under her eyes and fatigue in her posture.

            “They are improving rapidly Cullen,” She states, the Marcher accent comforting. Handing her a blanket that sat atop a box, she wrapped it around herself quickly. Cassandra had mentioned that severe weather conditions seemed to affect her more than most. This close he could smell lavender and vanilla on her skin, likely rubbed on to soothe a tired mind.

            “We can only do so much to prepare them,” He replies in kind. Placing a hand on his shoulder she allows the touch to linger soothingly.

            “When was the last time you ate?” Maker he didn’t even know. Narrowing her eyes and squaring her hips, Talia proceded to push him to her private cabin. Sputtering in protest, He attempted to stop her. Only when he saw the look she was giving him did he go along.

            Busying herself around the fire she made a quick meal. No recipe just homemade comforts her mother had taught her. Handing him a glass with whiskey in it she settled next to him as the food cooked. Now that he was resting he could feel the pounding in his skull and the ache in his neck.

            “You should be eating more,” She said softly. The woman was observant, he’d give her that. Looking at her closely he could tell she wanted to question the paleness of his skin and the gauntness that had settled in since he quit taking Lyrium. She kept quiet. Cullen was thankful for that.

            “And you should be getting more sleep.” He cracked his neck.

            Standing quickly she walked over to the cabinet next to her bed. Pulling out two vials she waved a hand at him.

            “Take off your mantle and your shirt,” she ordered in the same tone she commanded the recruits. Confused, Cullen followed her orders. Hesitantly he drew off the mantle and then the shirt; Talia made no comment on the scars littered across his body. Spreading some of the vial’s contents on her hands she gently placed them on his shoulders. Her hands were small and cool. His skin was too hot from the fever that seemed to never leave. Working slowly, Talia rubbed at aching muscles and old hurts in his back. It was almost unnatural how she managed to move from one knot to the next or maybe he just had too many.

            “Where did you learn this?” He groaned. Tali made a soft sound of fondness.

            “My father taught me. Told me that the best way to get someone to relax is to take away some of their pain. Massage is a simple but effective way to do so. It can be as effective as seeing a healer,” The oil smelled of ginger and bergamot. Talia was not a healer, in another life she definitely could have been.

            What seemed an eternity later she stepped away and wiped her hands on a cloth. Moving slowly back to the fire she took the simmering pan off of the heat. Cullen replaced his shirt but left his mantle on the chair next to him. His mind was surprisingly calm as he accepted a plate of steaming food.  Now that he thought of it nothing hurt. Scooting the nearest chair across from him, Talia watched him eat.

            “Thank you. That was not something you need to do.” He murmured. Her round face and pouty lips were not creased with the constant worry she seemed to carry. It was clear to him and Leliana that the work was beginning to take its toll. Talia couldn’t seem to shake off the day to day challenges, instead carrying them with her.

            “Cullen do you think that when this is all over that all of us will find some peace?” She questioned. Green eyes lingered on the ground not focused on the meal in front of her.

            “I hope so. Maker knows that you of all people deserve it. You’ve already done so much to help the people of Thedas and it has been mere months.” He smiled at her. Talia’s eyes grew watery and she slumped a little in her chair. A gesture that suggested more than just exhaustion.

            “When I was a little girl my father’s parents wanted me to become a Templar. At first it was all I wanted to do, be just like Xander. My parents refused to send me. Some years later my father explained that it would have killed me. Too kind he said. Now that I’m here I cannot help but agree. I see someone in need and I take it upon myself to help their hurt. Sometimes I wonder if I hurt more than help,” She stated, looking bitter. Cullen tried his hardest not to think of what the order would have done to her. Likely it would have crushed her soul.

            In the months that he’d known her Talia had accomplished so much. Managing not only to secure the rebel mages but the Templars, she brought the two groups together. It was a tense but peaceful arrangement. The most peaceful time the two groups had seen in years. The Inquisition’s reach extended into both Orlais and Fereldan. She constantly questioned what was right and changed it. The world was changing by her hands for the better. Leliana and Josephine sung their praises but Cullen knew how empty that could feel.

 

Their conversations continued until there was little light left in the sky. A knock came at the door and Leliana poked her head in. Red hair glistening in the fire light and intense eyes studied them.

            “Tali, I have received a missive from your brother. He is outside the Hinterlands and should be arriving within the week,” She spoke quietly, “He also wanted you to be informed that Tavis is devastated you didn’t invite him to join us.” She smirked at the young woman. Accepting the report Talia looked up at Leliana.

            “If Tavis was here nothing would get done. There would be naked women and men everywhere and the rooms would smell of wine. Just be thankful I didn’t invite him,” Talia gave a small snort. Cullen had rarely heard her speak of Tavis or her sister, now he knew why. He knew that Xander and Talia were the responsible more adult ones.

            “Will Xander require Lyrium upon arrival; he must be currently going without?” Leliana questioned, frowning. Clenching the missive in her hand Talia looked at her feet.

            “No, Xander no longer takes it. He left the order when the mages of Ostwick fled, offered them protection. He’s been taking care of them ever since.” She wrung her hands. Apparently Cullen wasn’t the only Templar who wanted nothing to do with the stuff.

            “Do you know if he’s having withdrawal symptoms? If so I can have healers prepare for treatment,” The taller woman had a look of respect across her features. Cullen undoubtedly did as well. Talia shook her head vigorously.

            “My brother is many things but he is proud. I know he suffers from fevers and dreams. Xander would never allow someone to see how much he is suffering, regardless of how much pain he is in. It would be best if the healers steered as far away from his as possible,” Talia explained, voice showing signs of dangerous emotion. Nodding Leliana moved silently out of the cabin and closed the door quietly behind her.

            A mixture of worry and anger dotted Talia’s features. Cullen couldn’t help but feel rather out of place in the room. Setting down his plate, he prepared to breach the subject.

            “You respect his decision don’t you?” He questioned, unsure if he was pushing. Surprised Talia’s eyes flew up to look at him.

            “Immensely,” She stated firmly, “I know how addictive and volatile the substance is. For him to stop taking it is utterly wrecking his body. If I was in his shoes I doubt that I would have the strength to commit to such a path.” She stacked their plates together. She reminded him of Mia in the way she always sought to comfort but bringing the hurt when needed. His affection for the young woman warmed him.

            “It is unbelievably difficult I assure you,” He remarked offhandedly. Talia almost dropped the plates as she connected the dots. Turning from where she was, the look on her face was devastated.

            “Oh Cullen, if this can kill you-” she stated worriedly. He raised a hand to stop her from speaking. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest at her concern.

            “Cassandra is keeping an eye on me. If she thinks I can no longer properly do my duties she will recommend a replacement.” He explained the plan. Talia to her credit did not seem concerned about his duties.

            “You are more than your position my friend,” it was said with compassion, “You deserve to be comfortable and find companionship. You are doing a more than excellent job. Do not let the past make you think anything less. We all have something we are ashamed of or regret but that does not make you any less a good commander or person. Do you understand?” With her hands on her hips and brows furrow she looked rather fierce. Nodding, he stared appreciatively at the woman before him. Compassion did not make her weak, the opposite really. The world, however broken, had not taken that from her.

            “Now run back to your quarters and get some rest. If you need me to tell the girls off about their gossiping just let me know.” She waved her hand dismissively.

            The next morning was almost unbearably cold. The Frostbacks seemed to be trying to make everyone miserable. It exacerbated the headache sitting behind Cullen’s eyes. To his surprise Josephine handed him a warm mug of peppermint tea. Smiling sweetly, she nodded to the mug.

            “The Herald sent this up and suggested you take the day off.” Josephine quickly gathered all the reports and paperwork off his desk and into her arms, “She will take care of the training and drills this morning. The Iron Bull will also do his part later this afternoon. You, Leliana, Cassandra, and I are also to dine together tonight. We have been instructed that it will be an informal meeting,” Josephine chuckled. Blurry eyed Cullen gaped at the woman. There were so many things to do. How could Talia possibly expect him to take the day off to relax when everyone else went about their day?

            Storming out to the training field in full gear, Cullen made a point to approach loudly. He stopped short at what he saw. Talia stood in the middle of the field with a sword and shield in her hands. She was sparring with a Templar and appeared to be holding her ground. Moving like a rouge and hitting like a warrior, she’d clearly trained extensively in both fields. Dodging a heavy blow and using her shield to bash into the Templar, she took him to the ground. The tip of her blade pointed at his throat. The recruits cheered her on and she stood smiling. The Templar accepted her extended hand and stood, wiping the dust from his uniform. Turning to the recruits she gestured to the two of them.

            “You don’t always have to take the hit; evasion can sometime save a life or limb. You must know your limits if you’re fighting with a sword and shield. Do not fall into the false comfort that they give you. A weapon is merely an extension of you and a shield is only a small wall. They will be completely useless if you are arrogant enough to rely solely on them.” She twirled the blade. The twin blades she normally used in battle were nowhere on her person.

            “And what is your weapon of choice Lady Trevelyan?” The Templar asked respectfully. Thoughtfully Talia moved to the weapons rack. A staff, simple but made of light metal, found its way into her hands. Testing the weight, Talia gave a small strike to the nearest training dummy.

            “I like staves; they keep you a safe distance away from your target. They also are versatile; need a walking stick, you’ve got one.” She whirled and gave the dummy another blow, “They were my first weapon, so I will always be the most comfortable with them,” She smiled fondly at the recruits.

            Dismissing the recruits, Talia and some of the more experienced Templars sat down around the nearest campfire.

            “Why do you fight with daggers if you prefer staves?” Eric, one of the veterans, asked. Talia thought for a moment before replying.

            “I am a small woman. Many people look at me and see a child or someone who needs to be protected. Personally I don’t try and change their opinions,” she smiled at Cullen as he approached, “So I use a weapon that is easy to conceal, something you won’t notice at first. That way when I am cutting you down, you don’t have time to react.” She held her hands to the fire. Many of the veterans laughed and the others looked at her with quiet respect.

            “Remind me not to get on the other side of those blades,” Eric stated with grim humor. Cullen was one to agree with the sentiment.

            “Before I forget my brother will be arriving within next couple of weeks. He left the order when the Ostwick circle rebelled. He’ll likely try and talk to you all, he misses the brotherhood of the order. It would be appreciated if you could spar with him,” Talia requested.

            “Of course Herald,” Maureen, an older veteran said, “What was his rank in Ostwick?” She asked politely.

            “Knight Commander, well respected amongst his peers from what I understand.” She tossed a stick in the fire. That seemed to surprise everyone in the little circle. Cullen now saw why Talia respected and cared for both Templar and mage needs.

            “Whatever your brother needs, we will give it Herald,” Eric saluted Talia as did the others.

            When Bull got his twenty-sixth recruit on the ground around midday, Cullen cringed. It wasn’t that Bull was a bad teacher or even too harsh, he just remembered the aches training like that could cause. Talia on the other hand was working with a small group she’d pegged for fighting with daggers or a bow. They were more lithe and fast than the bulky recruits Bull was working with. Standing behind a small Elven girl, Talia showed her how to stand properly with a bow in hand.

            “Be sure not to lock your left arm, the string will come back and hit it. Hurts like a son of a bitch,” She coached easily. The elf let an arrow loose and it hit the target near the top. Clapping the girl on the shoulder, Talia gave her soft praise. The Herald looked good in her element. Happy to give guidance and praise where it was due, she was a natural instructor.

            Cullen approached to speak with her towards the end of the train session. Talia looked up at him from where she was crouched.

            “Enjoying your day off Commander?” She asked, large smirk painted across her face. Cullen sighed dramatically before replying.

            “Despite my initial inclination to protest this turned out to be a very pleasant day.” He ran a hand through his curly hair. Talia beamed at him.

            “Good,” she said firmly, “You needed it. One person can only do so much.” She pressed her cold palm to his cheek. A friendly but appreciated gesture. The mountain air and time spent off his feet did seem to relax the tension in his body. Maker knew that he carried a lot with him. Tilting his head back, he looked up at the clear sky. The tint of green from the breach was still there but it wasn’t as alarming as he’d originally found it. Soon they’d close it and there would be some peace to be had. Now that he was thinking about it, Cullen had never asked if the mark bothered Talia.

            “Does the mark give you trouble?” he asked. Frowning, Talia traced a line across the offending palm. Green light spilled out and bathed her in its glow.

            “Only at night or near the smaller Fade rifts,” She commented, “I think it affects my dreams because it is in part connected to the Fade. It feels like I stuck my hand in icy water, stinging. Other than that it just feels like magical energy.” She shook her hand out, “Before this I hadn’t had a nightmare in years, now it’s almost nightly.” She frowned and combed through her thoughts.

            “It will get better Talia,” He said, assuring himself more than anyone.

            An informal meeting apparently meant that they would dine in the war room. The five of them sat near the fire and went over the weeks affairs. It wasn’t until Josephine mentioned the Storm Coast that her face fell. The reason unknown to the others, everyone stilled.

            “I forgot to get my sister a Nug,” Talia said, horrified. “She is going to kill me,” at that Leliana let out a ringing laugh. Josephine hid her smile behind her hand politely.

            “Don’t worry Tali, I breed them. I can have one of my people send one to you family’s estate.” Leliana placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. Still looking somewhat flustered Talia turned to the tall red head and nodded her head. Leliana resumed her meal, a soft smile on her lip. Cassandra on the other hand looked disgusted by the idea of owning a Nug.

            “She’s wanted one since she was a girl. My mother hates the bloody things, refused to get her one. Now that she’s out of the estate she can. I promised to bring her one back but it slipped my mind,” she recounted to them. Thea sounded like an interesting mage. Actually Talia’s whole family sounded like a rowdy bunch of misfits if he was being honest. Josephine settled farther into the large chair she used and looked at the girl fondly.

            “Oh please tell your mother thank you for sending in those oils,” Josephine smiled, “It was much appreciated. I cannot begin to tell you how much I miss home some days,” The warmth in the room was undeniable. Cullen thought to himself about where he was a mere five years ago. Any happiness he thought he had could not compare to this.


	5. Copper Hair and the Demeanor of a Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Xander's perspective. Reliving the teenage years of Talia.

            Cullen watches as Talia falls into a snowbank near the training ground a week after their dinner. Ass in the air and torso barely visible, she looked rather like a child. Pushing her body out of the bank and sputtering, he watches the expression of rage cross her face.

            “I am sick and tired of all this snowy bull shit!” She yelled to no one other than the Maker himself. Snickering he watched her begin to stop off then freeze in place. A tall man, three or four inches over Cullen stood watching her. Amused the man raised a hand in greeting and Talia was running toward him. Small feet carrying her fast, she threw herself into his arms. Cullen being the only member of rank or file walked over to meet the man.

            “Well little sister, the mountain air is doing you good. Look at that healthy glow and is that…” He trailed off while examining Talia, “Are you actually getting muscle?” She slugged her brother rather hard in the arm. Cullen hung back for a moment. The red hair and freckles were shared between them; Xander’s tall form and completely human features came as a surprise.

            “Cullen.” Talia waved him over, “Meet my brother Alexander,” She grinned, this was the happiest he’d ever seen her. Xander smile toothily and extended his hand, which Cullen took.

            “Pleasure Commander, Talia tells me you’re doing good work.” He placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. Cullen noticed that the signs of Lyrium withdrawals dotting the other man’s face.

            “Please call me Cullen, maker knows I hear Knight Captain and Commander far too often,” He replied, eyes following Xander’s movements.

            “You must come meet everyone, Sera doesn’t believe me when I say you look human.” Talia tugged her brother’s arm. Joyous and content was something he wanted to see Talia be more often.

            It seemed that Talia’s rag-tag group was coming along nicely. Xander had met everyone and enjoyed the company immensely. The last few weeks of travel had been trying and the company was a pleasant distraction. The one companion he took the most interest in was Cassandra. She had greeted him and then spoke so fondly of his sister he almost considered it admiration. Then Talia had been called away to deal with something related to sealing the breach leaving Cassandra and him alone. Under normal circumstances he would have felt awkward, this time he blessed.

            Cassandra watched him with a careful eye as he examined her shield. Nodding once he handed it back to her.

            “So is my sister dating anyone?” He asked as casually as he could. Cassandra to her credit offered only an eye roll.

            “She is not actively seeing anyone that I am aware of. She does have a certain fondness for Commander Cullen but the two of them have their heads so far up-” she caught herself before she could continue, “It is platonic however endearing they are. They are good for one another. She takes care of him, makes his days a bit easier. Keeps him fed and well rested. He makes sure she’s getting enough sleep and training. They also write to one another when we are away. It’s so sweet that sometimes I have to remind myself not to mention it in their presence for fear Tali will take my head off.” So far she was the only Nevarran he’d met here, the accent still so strong. He considered her words and gave a praise to the heavens.

            “She writes about him often,” He told Cassandra, “It’s rare for her to make friends much less a good male friend.” He sat himself down on a box near one of the tents. Cassandra’s eyebrows shot up in her surprise.

            “That is shocking; she draws people to her like a flame. Tali is a remarkable woman and in the time I have known her she seems well versed in all sorts of people. She makes an effort to speak Elven to the staff and Dalish we have here. Although they do say that her accent and pronunciation is dreadful. Tevene to our two Tevinter guests. Qunlat to the Iron Bull. We thought she might have been an ambassador at some point.” Cassandra leaned against the training dummy. Laughing, Xander made a quick gesture with his hand.

            “She learned Elven and Tevene from the slaves my family helped from the Imperium. That’s what she did the majority of her teens and young adult years. She would sneak through the border and help slaves escape. My family helped them find jobs. Many of them stayed with our estate or became farmers on our land. My mom taught her Qunlat. She’s the only one who knows how to speak it in the house,” He smiled fondly at the memory of his mother and sister.

            “That is remarkable and reflects highly on her character. I would never have the patience to learn another language.” Cassandra looked out over the icy lake, “She gives everyone so much consideration, and it is refreshing.” She gestured across the land.

            “Talia has always found comfort in the unusual characters around Thedas. Mum wanted her to have a dreadfully normal life. My sister wouldn’t have it though. The first time she came home with lashes from a whip, mum started following her to the Tevinter border. She was surprised to learn from one of the smugglers that Talia had taken a beating for an elf.” Xander shrugged as though it was normal.

            “I saw the scars,” Cassandra comments, “She laughed and said she got too mouthy with the wrong person. Maker knows why she didn’t just tell me,” She sounded annoyed by the idea.

            Xander saw the crest of Talia’s copper hair over the steps to the main gate. He also noticed the Commander stop what he was doing and admire her. The look he gave her was so full of affection and respect, Xander did even think about threatening him.  She bounced over to him and pushed him as far as her tiny body could making room on the box. Perched next to him, her feet didn’t even hit the ground. Cassandra smiled softly.

            “So Tavis is utterly devastated you called me to join the Inquisition but not him. He wanted me to tell you that you were never any good at magic so he doubts you’d be any good with your mark. If you need any advice to summon him at your leisure.” Talia froze beside him. Glancing over he saw the fearful look on her sister’s face. Cassandra was staring her down with prejudice, not the bad kind.

            “I was unaware that Talia had magic capabilities at all. She has mentioned them to no one.” Cassandra crossed her arms across her chest. Talia shrank slowly into her brother’s side.

            “That’s because I don’t use magic. It just sits inside me idly, all dusty from non-use,” She said so quietly he barely heard her, “Cassandra I am no mage and I would appreciate it if you did not speak of this with anyone else.” Talia moved her hands nervously. Cassandra snorted.

            “Once again I manage to sound like I am accusing you of something. My friend, I would not care even if you were a mage. I was simply surprised. You are a gentle woman, you cannot bring harm to anyone undeserving. I am sorry.” Cassandra bent her head in apology. Slumping in relief, Talia pushed Xander the rest of the way off the box.

            “What other secrets have you been blurting out in front of Cassandra?” She growled at him. Xander rubbed his sore rump and looked up to Talia.

            “I could always tell everyone about the Kirkwall incident,” he smarted at her. Blanching and stepping off the box, she rounded on him.

            “You wouldn’t dare!” She hissed, voice dropping. Cassandra was already interested.

            “You spent time in Kirkwall?” Cassandra asked, eyes surprised. Talia just slumped and looked to her brother.

            “ We were only there for three days. In that time she threatened to beat up the champion of Kirkwall after a night of too much drink,” Xander said, eyes twinkling. Talia made a face that promised pain.

            “He thought I was a prostitute, a lady of the night. I challenged him to a duel!” She exclaimed a little too loudly. Recruits and Commander alike looked up. Embarrassed and furious, Talia pinched the bridge of her nose. Cassandra actually laughed, eyes lighting up.

            “How old were you?” Cassandra questioned, “Please tell me you actually fought!” The Seeker seemed giddy at the thought.

            “I was eighteen and yes we fought. Though I will have you know that Hawke bought me a drink after it was said and done. It was an apology for breaking my nose,” Tali huffed. Xander laughed loudly then wiggled his fingers.

            “You left out the part where you two got in a bar fight, broke six tables, stole two bottles of whiskey, and left him to clean up your mess.” Xander patted his sister’s back gently.

            “That was you!” Cullen’s voice rang out next to them. Appalled and determined to make herself seem less of an ass, she turned to Cullen.

            “Well to be fair it was Hawke and I-” she trailed off. Cullen barked out a laugh and scratched the back of his neck.

            “The amount of injuries that we saw coming out the Hanged man was worrisome. All of them murmuring about a woman with copper hair and the demeanor of a dragon. We searched for weeks,” Cullen commented. Talia flushed and ducked her head again.

            “I was on a ship back to Ostwick the next day. You would never have caught me if my brother hadn’t opened his mouth.” A rude gesture was sent in Xander’s general direction.

             

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think of teenage Talia as being responsible and caring, with a small amount of fuck you.


	6. Chantry Sisters...and the sisters we choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Told from Cassandra's point of view. Sometimes we have siblings we are born with and others fall out of the fade and into our lives.

            Cassandra watched Talia throw a dagger casually into the back of a bandit. The resounding thud from his body hitting the ground was satisfying to both women. The fighting was hard today. No break in the steady stream of bandits that had cropped up all over the Hinterlands. Sheathing her sword, Cassandra watched Talia place a booted foot on the back of the man and tug her dagger free. Dorian looked utterly disgusted when she wiped the blood on her pants.

            “What?” She stared at him, “It’s not as if they could be any bloodier,” Talia stated sadly. Cassandra took in sight of all her companion’s wardrobes. She and Talia were covered head to toe. The thick viscera combined with dirt, which in turn combined with sweat. They looked and smelled atrocious. Dorian and Varric on the other hand had escaped with some dust on their shoes and hair merely ruffled.

            In all her years as a Seeker and the Right Hand of the Devine Cassandra had found she did not enjoy violence. It was however very effective in getting results. She remembered the angry little girl she’d once been.  Fighting had been a way to relieve stress and frustration. Now that she was older Cassandra found herself saddened by all the wasted life. The conflicts seemed endless. But she was good at fighting and Talia needed someone strong beside her.

            The tent she and Talia shared was small and at night the girl tended to tuck into her side. Whether she was drawing on warmth or needed the comfort of another’s touch, Cassandra did not know. She would allow Talia to lay with her head on her bicep.  The copper locks of her hair tickling Cassandra’s nose. It smelled of oils she carried with her. Sometimes it was lavender and vanilla, other times lemongrass and bergamot. It allowed Cassandra peace to ease into sleep.

            They shared many beliefs. Although Talia was religious she avoided going to mass like the plague. To Cassandra’s surprise she dodged the Chantry sisters and Mother Giselle at all times. She admitted one night, as they gathered around the campfire, that she saw the good the Chantry could do. She was ashamed over the short comings of church. All Talia wanted was reform, for the Chantry to provide comfort instead of fuel for a fire. Justinia would have like her.

            There were other things about the woman that put a small twitch in Cassandra’s lip. Listening to her and Dorian banter easily and talk about books and topics Cassandra did not understand. The way she always stared danger in the face and promptly laughed at it, as though life had just told a funny joke. The way she snuck into war room and placed a pot with Andraste’s Grace where Leliana normally stood. The way she helped a small refuge child to his feet and then noticing they were blistered, carried him the rest of the way to Haven. Talia was kind. It was such a rare thing to see in Thedas that Cassandra feared that it would make Talia an easy target.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            The world loved proving Cassandra right. It had been doing so for years. She stood out near the blacksmith discussing the acquisition of a new shield. The air was cool and the night was pressing into the sky. The Smithy smelled like leather, metal, and oil. All of these things put Cassandra at ease. Talia was a little ways away speaking with a merchant and a sister quietly. Despite Talia’s dislike of the Chantry, she didn’t seem to mind Sister Catherine. Then she heard it. A slap rang across the open yard. Silence fell across the crowd. Sister Catherine clutched her cheek and stared at Talia in shock. The Herald stood ridged, her face enraged. Chest moving heavily and eyes narrowed, it was clear that something had gone terribly wrong.

            “If you ever speak of my mother or my family like that again I will have you exiled from Haven immediately. I do not care if you think me an ‘ox’ for my behavior; just because you are a woman who follows the Maker does not make you holy Sister!” Talia seethed. Clenching her jaw, Sister Catherine huffed before stomping up the steps. Cassandra cautiously moved to Talia’s side.

            The Herald’s face was bright red and splotchy from anger. The merchant, a sweet looking Dwarf, looked equally offended.

            “Humans can be a challenge my lady, it doesn’t matter where you go. If you don’t look like them then you’re a problem.” The woman patted the Herald’s shoulder lightly. Talia deflated when she saw Cassandra. Eyes falling to the ground, Talia looked like she expected to be chastised.

            “She said she didn’t blame my father for dallying with an ‘exotic woman’ and that she was surprised my brother and I were so attractive having come from an ‘ox’.” Talia scrunched her face up. Cassandra had heard the stories. Talia was very sensitive about her mother, afraid of what people thought of her. Cassandra had been surprised to learn that Talia didn’t really care what terms people used for her. She was neither human or Qunari.

            “I do not see why she found it appropriate to make such a remark,” Cassandra said with distaste, “However I do know that ignorance is not the same thing as malice, though they can often be found in each other’s presence. It does not excuse Sister Catherine’s words or actions.” Talia nodded, though she still looked bitter. There was a look of regret in Talia’s eyes. They clouded over while she thought of the consequences.

            By the end of the day everyone knew about Sister Catherine’s confrontation with Talia. Leliana had been working from the shadows to keep Catherine painted as the wrong doer. The Herald was sulking around. Neither Cullen nor Xander seemed to be able to get her to leave her cabin. Cassandra had seen Talia in a range of situation but none seemed to upset her quite like this. Without knocking, Cassandra walked into Talia’s cabin. Immediately her eyes fell on the bundle of blankets that seemed to be wrapped like armor around the Herald.

            “You know you cannot hide forever, Leliana will have her people drag you out,” Cassandra stated. Her only answer was a huff of discontent. Sitting down next to the woman who bore the weight of the world on her shoulders, Cassandra bumped a shoulder against her.

            “I am not the angry one. But when she said those things about my mum and Xander I felt so furious. She said the words like they were compliments I should take with pride, like her validation should matter,” She heard Talia whisper. Snorting, Cassandra clasped her hands together.

            “Anger is a powerful tool my friend. It can shape and motivate where hope and good intentions cannot. I would not be who I am today if I wasn’t angry as a young girl.” Cassandra pulled the covers away from Talia’s face. She’d been crying. There were red rings around her eyes and her face was flushed deeply.

            “Now that would be the real tragedy,” Talia murmured, “We would never have been friends.” She leaned against Cassandra. The older woman sighed thoughtfully.

            “I agree, you are a wonderful woman and I am glad to have met you,” Cassandra said softly.

            The two women sat in Talia’s cabin for the rest of the night and into the morning. Each of them told stories of their homes, families, and memories. For a moment the weight of the world was lifted off of Talia’s shoulders. With the fire crackling and the pull of sleep calling them both, Cassandra bid Talia goodnight. On the way back to the room she had in the Chantry, Cassandra came to a realization. This is what having a sister must feel like. It put a smile on her face and she silently thanked Maker for sending her Talia.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always loved Cassandra. For a woman that comes off as cold, her personality and mannerisms are so lovely as you become friends. I love that she respects The Herald and considers her/him a good friend.


	7. Avalanches and Agony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra's point of view during and after the attack on Haven.

            Talia shoved Cassandra so hard the wind was knocked from her chest. The small rogue jumped gracefully and dug her daggers into the chest of a Red Templar. It barely slowed the creature down. Haven was burning. The bells tolled as a beacon of safety. Cassandra prayed that they would make it that far. The trebuchet needed to be aimed before it could be fired. Sacrifices would be made. One of them would lose their life. It was a choice Cassandra was ready to make. She would stay and burry Haven so Talia could save them from the Elder One. She watched Talia spin the mechanism one last time. The trebuchet was aimed at the mountain. Cassandra took a deep breath in, ready to say her goodbyes. Then the archdemon crested in the sky, swooping back towards them.

            “Move, now!” Talia said in a firm panic. The creature spewed its electric flames easily cutting them off from Talia. The Iron Bull had to physically restrain her from walking through the wall of flame to get to Talia. The woman she had come to care for as family lay motionless. Her body was crumpled, lying like a forgotten doll.

            Once in the Chantry, Cassandra and her companions were shown the way to the path Roderick had mentioned. No smart comments from Dorian. No loud laughter from Bull. The three were silent but they certainly felt and heard the avalanche. The anger was back, bubbling in the back of her throat. She thought of having to write to Xander, explaining that she’d let his sister die. That his sister, their hero, was now lying dead under the snow. Cassandra had promised to protect her while he was away on Inquisition business in Orlais. Maker, he would hate her for this. Eyes stinging and mouth dry, Cassandra kept her mouth shut until they reached the end of the path. Emerging on the mountain, she made a beeline for Cullen. He looked as wrought with guilt and determination as she had ever seen him. Everyone, refugees and soldiers alike, realized that The Herald of Andraste had dumped a mountain on herself to save them.

            They made their way a short distance to a small canyon in the mountain. They pitched tents and took refuge from the cold. Triage and medical were working their hardest to comfort and heal the elderly and wounded.

            “She will make it back,” She heard Josephine whisper. The woman, still dressed in her gold silks looked absolutely wrecked. The beautiful braids she kept her hair in were falling out. The khol around her eyes was smudged from crying. Josephine did not even attempt to fix her appearance, just looked up to the heavens. Cassandra shook her head and slammed her hand down on a crate. The advisors looked up.

            “Talia is dead!” Cassandra snarled, “We cannot hope she survived an avalanche!” Josephine flinched at the words. Cullen and Leliana looked somber but were realistic.

            “We need to prepare for the fallout,” Leliana spoke, her voice wavered. “We must get to safety above all else, this position is not good for anyone’s survival.” She clutched the grip of her bow tightly. The hard set of her jaw and grit of her teeth were remarkably noticeable. There was a bruise across her cheek; Cassandra pitied the person who’d given her that. Kicking a chunk of ice with her boot in frustration, she looked out over the camp. No one even cared they escaped.

            “There could be a chance she sur-” Cullen attempted to speak; Cassandra whipped her head up to look at him.

            “Even if Talia did survive, she would freeze before we ever found her.” Cassandra balled her hands up into fists. Even so she looked up the path. It had been hours. Her own hands, even whilst wearing gloves, were numb from the cold. She didn’t feel any physical pain, just the devastation. There was no way that Talia could survive, it was simply too cold.

            The dark sky was lit up by the residual effects of The Breach. Cassandra watched the top of the path still hoping, praying even that Talia would walk over the hill. Behind her, the advisors bickered. Their voices carried through the canyon. She wanted nothing to do with them. Cassandra feared that if she spoke her heart would fall from her mouth. She had not felt this kind of despair since Anthony died. It was colder than the air around her. It itched underneath her skin, she was restless. Once again she thought to Varric’s words. Heroes don’t get happy endings. Snorting, she tossed a stick into the fire. Talia didn’t get her happy ending because she passed it onto her loved ones and those in her care. This is how The Herald would have wanted it. Then she saw it, the flame of copper hair over the ridge. Jumping to her feet, she bolted full speed towards Talia. Cullen, noticing as well, was right on her heels. Talia collapsed as they reached her. Her round face was bruised and her shoulder was clearly dislocated. Cullen scooped her easily into his arms.

            “I fucking hate snow,” Talia murmured voice shaky from the cold. Cassandra hushed her, and stopped herself from crying with joy. Tears would do nothing.

            Bundled and having drunk several potions, Talia lay in the makeshift trauma center. Cassandra ducked her head in. A set of grassy colored eyes greeted her. The healers mentioned that her injuries included a dislocated shoulder, a broken right arm, broken ribs, and a concussion. Yet despite all odds Talia had made it back to the Inquisition.

            “He was arrogant,” Talia uttered roughly, “Corypheus was prideful and my entire existence wounds it.” She attempted to lift her arm but grimaced instead. Considerately Cassandra pondered what to say to that.

            “Then you are his truest counter. You are selfless, sacrificing so much for us.” Cassandra placed a hand on Talia’s forehead. The copper haired girl looked up at her with angry eyes.

            “I hope you’re right Cassandra,” She paused, “Now that I have met him, there is only one thing I will promise you. He will die and only then will this be over,” Talia said in a rough whisper.

            It had been a long journey to the location Solas had spoken about. In that time the advisors had made a decision. They would name Talia the Inquisitor.  A position she had already been filling for a long time. And once they reached Skyhold, the advisors tasked Cassandra with telling Talia. They now stood on the steps to the great castle and praise to Talia was shouted. The Herald of Andraste stood with her head held high. The sun hit her sword and bounced light onto her face. Talia looked every part the holy figure people thought she was. Up close there were bruises decorating her face and hands, they stood out heavily against her skin. There was also a slump in her shoulders. The burden of command was heavily felt. Cassandra had never been more proud of Talia.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter from Cassandra's point of view. The next Chapter will be from Talia's perspective. If there were any errors in grammar or spelling I apologize; this was edited very late at night after a long shift. I can barely keep my eyes open.


	8. Brawls and Bar fights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia's point of view.

            The journey from Haven was hell on Talia’s body. Anytime she moved something else with groan in protest. She refused to ride with the other wounded or weaker civilians. They needed the space more than her. Once they reached Skyhold she nearly collapsed at the sight. It was beautiful, unimaginably large and striking. Then her advisors had to do the dumbest thing on the Maker’s given earth. They made her inquisitor. She wouldn’t say no. They desperately needed a leader. Clutching the sword in hand she raised it high. The crowds cheered and for a moment she felt incredibly powerful. It lasted a mere moment before she felt like a fish out of water. Overwhelming.

            Varric approached her and advisors in the great hall. His ally with information on Corypheus was on the battlements. After a brief discussion Talia left to go meet the enigma that Varric protected. The last things she expected when the swung herself up the ruined wall was to come face to face with a beautiful man. His eyes were the first thing she noticed. They were tired like her. Hawke looked older than the last time she saw him. He also looked as surprised to see her as she did him.

            “Well if it isn’t the dragon lady!” Hawke barked out a laugh. Murderously, Talia looked at Varric.

            “I am going to let Cassandra kill you Varric!” She hissed, “You could have warned me.” Talia tossed her hair over her shoulder. Varric shrugged as though he wasn’t bothered.

            “Then who would you trade witty banter with?” Varric smirked. Sighing she turned and faced the warrior with a sheepish look on her face.

            “Fate is a funny thing isn’t it,” She testified. Hawke smiled down at her and the grin on his face lightened her heart.

            “Who knew that both of us have horrible luck and companions who never give us any peace,” He quipped at her. Talia felt the color drain from her face. Haven was still a fresh memory, the physical reminders were felt even more so. Rubbing a hand across her ribs, Talia looked out over the courtyard. Hawke’s eyes followed their path.

            “Varric says you’ve fought Corypheus before, any advice you have to offer would be invaluable.” Talia looked up at him. The tears were threatening to spill from her eyes. Angrily she pressed the palm of her left hand to her forehead.

            “You must be overwhelmed,” Hawke surmised. Nodding and choking out a bitter laugh, she gestured to the people below her. She felt the hopes and dreams of every person in her care.

            “They look up at me and see a savior,” She ground out, “I am nothing but a scared little girl from Ostwick trying to do what’s right.” Talia ducked her head down. Hawke reached out hesitantly. His hand settled on her shoulder.

            “You are a good leader,” He spoke with quiet determination, “Your people are safe and alive because of your actions. That is no small feat Lady Trevelyan,” Comforted by his words she glanced up at him. The amber color of his eyes reminded her of maple syrup and honey.

            “You came here to discuss Corypheus, let’s get to it.” She settled in to listen to his tale.

            After Hawke’s explanation Talia was more afraid than ever. Exhausted, she looked to the darkening sky.

            “Come to the tavern and have a pint Hawke. I know that I personally need one.” Talia grimaced, ribs sore. Nodding, Hawke followed her down the steps to the loud Tavern. She ordered the strongest thing they had around and knocked it back in a few gulps. Hawke chugged his down as well. Both somber and equally tired, Talia gave a small laugh at how different their last meeting was.

            “Do you remember what you said to me in Kirkwall?” She smiled into her glass. Hawke looked at her, eyes sparkling.

            “Oh how could I forget,” He snarked.

            _Kirkwall was an awful place. Talia had decided this after deciding to go on a midnight stroll whilst horridly intoxicated. The daggers at her hips and strapped to her back glistened in the moonlight. Apparently well-armed meant leave the lady alone. Moving through the streets as quietly as a drunken rogue could, she was attempting to find the nearest tavern. The city’s streets were like a bloody maze._

_“Excuse me fine lady of the night, how much for your company?” A cocky voice behind her asked, a snicker followed from an Elven companion. Turning, Talia looked the giant man in the eyes. Wavering slightly, she placed her small hands on her hips._

_“What did you just call me?” She snarled out. The tall man barked a laugh at her as though the situation was funny._

_“A lady of the night. Would you prefer whore or prostitute?” He questioned, the quirk in his grin infuriating. Talia placed her hand on the grip of her dagger, fingers dancing._

_“None of the above actually, seeing as how I am a smuggler not a prostitute. Not that there is anything wrong with being a prostitute,” She hissed at him. Maybe she should have worn more cloths through this part of town. The slaves she had escorted over the border had insisted on coming to Kirkwall, Maker knows why._

_“Well I must say you lack the defining characteristics of a smuggler. Your eyes aren’t nearly shifty enough,” The tall man quipped. Behind him, the elf shifted having noticed her hand on the dagger at her waist. Eying him cautiously, Talia took a careful step back. He carried himself like Tevinter trained warrior, yet he held the defensive posture of one of the slaves._

_“Well you seem to be in possession of a Tevinter slave!” Talia bit out, she already hated the man. The elf looked surprised and lowered his hand. “Forgive me if I am a bit jumpy. Who are you really?” She questioned. If this man was a slaver the situation could get ugly fast._

_“Garrett Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall.” He leaned his shoulders back, testing her strength not to punch him. This man was the city’s champion. Andraste preserve these poor people._

_“You’re telling me that the protector of this city is a hedonistic and cocky bastard?” She stuttered, mouth turned down in disbelief. Talia unsheathed her daggers, the moonlight reflected off of obsidian. “You will duel me Champion! For not only insulting my pride but for bring disgrace on this city.” She twirled the daggers in her hands. For a moment he just stared in disbelief, and then he unsheathed his sword and strapped his shield to his arm._

_“Let us fight then, Fenris make sure she doesn’t kill me. I have a feeling this one fights dirty,” The elf nodded in agreement._

_Talia knew Hawke felt the slice of her blade on his sword arm. He hissed in discomfort before knocking her back with his shield. The impact sent her flying backwards. Nimbly she rolled and was back on her feet in an instant. Cloaking herself, she sidestepped in an attempt to flank him. He felt her coming, possibly the rush of air from when she ducked past him. Slashing out he managed to graze her collar bone. The sting of metal against flesh was never a pleasant feeling, it was however not a new one. Talia was used to brawling with Tevinter mages not hard hitting bear-like warriors; Hawke wasn’t wrong when he said she was a dirty fighter._

_Sliding, she slipped between his legs. Sweeping his left leg out from under him, he toppled the ground. Swinging her legs over his waist, Talia tossed her daggers to the ground._

_“Last chance to submit, otherwise I will have to mark up that handsome face,” She smirked, eyes glittering. Then he did what she didn’t expect him to. He threw his elbow up and caught her nose. The crunch of her nose breaking was heard before she felt the stinging pain. In retaliation, Talia punched him in the jaw with all her might. The click of teeth was audible. The two grappled for a hold on one another. Talia knew she was hard to pin down; her small body was flexible enough to simply bend out of the majority of his holds. The man was brutally strong, she could feel the muscle rippling. She knew that her stamina was low, drastic measures had to be taken if she wanted to win. While she was pinned slightly under him she lifted her legs and wrapped her thighs around his throat. Crossing her ankles and tightening her muscles, she felt the air start to leave his body. Breaths came in harsh and ragged. Then she was dragged away from the bear of a man by her shirt’s collar. The elf…Fenris, settled her on the cobblestones. To her surprise he looked impressed. Talia and Hawke stood, straightening her tunic back into place. Hawke just beamed._

_“My lady that was a good fight for a random happenstance.” He dusted his pants off. Talia laughed, eyes wide with wonder. How could someone so seemingly arrogant take defeat so easily._

_“We should fight again when I am sober. My brother tells me I’m not so prone to dirty tricks and mean comments,” she chuckled. Extending a hand to him in truce, he took it._

_“You must let me buy you a drink, to honor my defeat by a drunken smuggler in an ally.” Hawke gestured to Fenris who had his sword._

_“To be fair Hawke you’ve had quite a bit to drink tonight too Hawke.” The elf tossed Hawke his shield. Talia on the other hand was pondering whether or not another drink was a good idea or not._

_“I never turn down a free drink, lead the way.”_

_The Hanged Man was bustling with people. Talia was greeted by a concerned looking young elf. Her short black hair and large eyes gave her a child-like appearance, though on further inspection Talia realized they were close in age._

_“Oh Hawke you’re injured!” The tiny elf exclaimed. Talia knew this must be inner circle with how Hawke reacted. He laughed brazenly and shoved the girl away playfully. The lanterns and fire illuminated the tavern well; instinctually she reached her hand up to make sure her horns were hidden. Kirkwall was not on good terms with the Qunari. Behind the elf appeared a tall, beautiful woman._

_“And you brought a bloody and delicious looking friend.” The dark skinned woman said sensually. The woman was definitely from Rivain, it was easy to tell._

_“Interesting company you keep Champion,” Talia coughed out, “Now about that drink you owe me.” She set her daggers on the table._

_On her fifth shot of whatever god awful swill she was pouring down her throat, Talia couldn’t feel the pain from her broken nose anymore. All of Hawke’s companions, excluding a dwarf apparently, sat around her. All of the eyed the Champion and her with curious looks. She was surprised with she felt a tingle of healing magic creep up her spine. Immediately her eyes darted to the man sitting across from her. He seemed shocked she identified him as the mage so easily._

_“Much appreciated, my nose hurt like a bitch,” She thanked the man. Still he seemed shocked by her sensitivity to magic. Raising a hand, Talia attempted to placate the panic that was rising at the table._

_“Before you start another fight my siblings are mages,” she explained in a hushed tone. That made the man relax visibly, back no longer straight as a board. Hawke then turned to her with curious eyes._

_“So tell me what brings you to Kirkwall?” He asked. It was her turn to panic, should she tell him the truth? Many lives depended on the secrets she kept. This man surrounded himself with mages so she didn’t suspect he’d give away the positions of escaped slaves._

_“I smuggle slaves out of Tevinter so they have a chance at life. Usually I bring them to Ostwick where my family is from. That is where I sent the children from this group. The adults decided Kirkwall would be a better option. They have work papers and false identities; soon they will be active members of society.” She slammed the shot back. Fenris looked at her with cautious respect._

_“Not many people would risk their lives for a slave,” Fenris said slowly. Talia smiled at him affectionately and not with pity. Her interactions with other slaves made her sensitive to the situation. Hawke and his companions were staring at her with a range of emotions._

_“It’s fucking wrong the way they are treated. I won’t sit in my family’s estate twiddling my thumbs while I could be saving the lives of many.” She thrust the glass she was holding down on the table. “So I work hard and I try and do right by the people that need help,” She smiled softly. Fenris pondered for a second._

_“You’re the one they call The Shadow of Ostwick,” He remarked. Talia’s face dropped._

_“Please tell me they don’t actually call me that!” She snorted indignantly. Fenris shrugged his shoulders._

_“You’re quite a myth to the slaves both free and not,” he left it open to interpretation._

_The night blazed on without much more excitement. The liquor was strong and Talia felt light on her feet. In reality, she was probably as graceful as a druffalo. The man who’d healed her, Anders, was like a light she couldn’t help but be drawn to. He reminded her of Thea so much it hurt. They both had kind eyes and their magic felt so similar against her skin. It was hard not to get emotional at how kind and lively he was. Everyone at the table was a welcome distraction from the horrors she’d seen on her stay on the border. Downing another shot, she stood to return the glass to Nora. She’d had far too much to drink by this point. Merrill let out a squeak when a burly man passed her, hand groping her bottom. Talia’s brain went from zero to one-hundred in milliseconds. Sliding across the table, she landed in front of the man. Eyes trained on his face, she stepped into his space._

_“Apologize!” she demanded. Merrill was protesting meekly. Always ready for a good fight Isabela was at her side in an instant. The man took the two women standing in his path as an invitation and swung. Dodging the blow easily, Talia took the shot glass that was still in her hand and smashed it against his head. One of the piggish man’s partners grabbed her from behind and somehow managed to launch her across the room. Landing on top of a table, she scrambled to her feet and launched herself at the man. Isabela caught him around the neck and waited for Talia to punch him. He dropped as soon as her fist made contact. Good. Hawke was fighting two men with the help of the guardswoman. Anders had Merrill pressed against the wall, keeping her out of the fight. It was over as soon as it was started._

_Talia took in the sight around her. Apparently a bar fight in Kirkwall was not limited to the two original parties. The damage to the tavern was not the worse she’d seen but it was enough to make her duck out the door when everyone’s heads were turned. Disappearing into the shadows and following the path she’d took before, she appeared outside the estate. Ducking inside she closed the door quietly. As she slunk into her room Xander poked his head out to take in her appearance. Shaking his head, he turned around and closed the door._

_Talia shrugged off her shirt and dumped it at the foot of the bed. Walking over to the floor length mirror, she surveyed the scar on her chest. Anders was a good healer. He didn’t need physical contact to heal and all that was left was the tenderness around the area. She was filthy, covered in blood and dirt. She noticed a bath had already been drawn. Bless her brother for knowing her so well. The water was cold, clearly prepared hours ago. Touching her hand to the base of the tub, Talia hesitated. No one was here to see her do this, it would be fine. She drew on the magic she so rarely used and let it warm the water. Standing she stripped herself bare and stepped in. scrubbing the filth and grime away was heavenly. Kirkwall was more fun than she thought._

            Talia almost died when Cassandra stormed into The Herald’s Rest. The woman’s face was bright red, eyes roaming furiously. Hawke actually managed to look rather small in his seat when Cassandra noticed him.

            “Where is Varric?” Cassandra seethed. Talia stood on unsteady knees, moving in front of Hawke. She looked up at the Seeker with well conceal amusement.

            “By now I imagine he’s retired for the night in a well-hidden nook of the castle.” She placed her hands on her hips, “Cassandra you cannot and will not kill, threaten, or maim Varric. He thought what he was doing was right and you know it,” Talia reasoned. Cassandra waved her hand dismissively.

            “I make no promises Inquisitor, Varric lied. Again,” Cassandra’s voice dropped. Talia grabbed the woman’s shoulder.

            “Varric is a lot of things but he is very loyal. For this to work, you need to be willing to compromise with him on some things. You couldn’t have expected him to reveal the Champion’s locations. He saw you as a threat coming for his best friend. So go to bed, rest on your rage. Tomorrow I will moderate a conversation between the two of you. I expect you to be civil.” She dismissed Cassandra promptly.

            Retaking her seat, Talia glanced at Hawke. He looked thankful that she’d gotten rid of Cassandra.

            “Not a day will pass where I don’t thank the heavens for not having to do your job,” He stated and drank to the sentiment. Talia on the other hand laughed loudly.

            “You almost did,” Hawke looked horrified, “That’s what Cassandra wanted you for. The Devine wanted you to be the inquisitor.” Talia offered him a drink which he took quickly. The idea seemed to traumatize Hawke into silence. Offering him a mischievous look, Talia startled him by speaking.

            “We can trade if you want. I’ll be the Champion and you can be the Inquisitor.” Hawke waved his arms at her.

            “I would rather not have the weight of a world on my shoulders thank you very much,” He snorted, taking another sip of his drink. Talia lifted her glass in a toast.

            “To us important people, so poorly suited for our jobs,” Their glasses clanked.


	9. Crosses and Candles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events in the Fade Talia is left exhausted. Time heals all wounds...most of the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this chapter I listened to Crosses by Jose Gonzalez, it is a beautiful song. It's good for the days when you just can't settle.

            The morning light fell over the walls of the Skyhold garden. The warm glow illuminated the planters and stone archways. Varric usually awoke in the early morning and came to the garden to reflect. It was a quiet place this early in the morning. Sometimes he would see Cassandra or Cullen ducking out of the prayer room dedicated to Andraste. Neither of them ever paid him much notice, not that he wanted them to. However neither were in sight so he chose to duck his head in. The scene that greeted him was surprising. Talia knelt, her head bowed. Her full lips moved but Varric couldn’t hear the sound of words. Varric didn’t expect Talia to visit any Chantry or even a prayer area.

            It felt like an invasion of privacy for him to watch her pray. Moving quietly he attempted to back out of the room. Before he could exit, Talia froze.

            “Please stay,” Her voice was weary, “I could use the company, Andraste doesn’t seem to be listening.” Talia placed her hand on the stone. When Varric looked closely he could see the marks left over from the Fade. He knew that Talia felt so immensely guilty over her decisions in the fade. Stroud had died willingly but all Talia saw was another casualty she could have prevented had she been stronger. Over time Varric had notice that similarly to Hawke, the young hero was getting extremely depressed.

            “I can do that,” Varric spoke quietly. Taking a seat he waited for Talia to speak again. For a while the two of them just sat quietly, illuminated by candlelight and morning rays.

            For the first time Varric realized he was seeing Talia for the girl she should have been, not the one she’d been forced to become. Her curvy body was dressed in a floor length cotton dress. The copper hair he’d come to recognize was pulled into a messy bun, random strands falling from the confines of the band she used to tie it back. Small and nimble hands that wielded deadly daggers now lit candles in a delicate fashion. Attention was paid to each one she lit. With no khol around her eyes, Varric could see the rounded softness to them. They were irritated and red from crying. The bags under them were even more noticeable, the little sleep she got was getting more obvious as time passed. The Inquisitor was just a few years out of her teens, but the world looked to her. It was a heavy, unfixable burden.

            Soft eyes looked up to meet Varric’s. They were glossy and glimmering with tears. Moving, he crouched down next to Talia. The light that seemed to pour from her was slowly seeping away. The little girl who brought hope was being pushed aside for a ruthless and cold shell of a woman. He’d told Cassandra that Hawke had already given enough, deserved better. But what about the girl who ruled over the fate of Thedas? No one ever bothered to make sure she wasn’t going off the ass end of crazy. There was a dark look in her eyes that just got stronger with each day. Alarm bells went off in Varric’s head.

            “You know I didn’t think life could get crazier than in Kirkwall,” Varric broke the silence. Looking up, she silently waited for him to continue. “I thought that Hawke was the biggest danger magnet alive but I was wrong. Instead of a peaceful retirement from companion to a hero, I get dragged to the ass end of nowhere to do the good work. All I really wanted to do is just write books and cause trouble in taverns across Thedas. Instead I end up working with the weirdest group of people to ever exist. We’ve got everything Qunari to an elf that communicates with the spirits. Honestly I have never belonged in any group of people. But here I feel like I am piece that belongs to a bigger puzzle. It’s good,” Varric said, hand resting on his knee. Smiling, Talia’s lips formed a half grin.

            “That’s how I’ve felt for years. Never belonging but finding things to devote my time to. Here I can actually be someone, make the difference this world needs. In a short time, the Inquisition has already started to reshape Thedas. The people here are my family. Every time I walk into the main hall and I see the people I care about, it just feels like we are going to be alright.” Talia smoothed the front of her dress with her “normal” hand. Nodding Varric stood as well.

            “C’mon kid lets go get something to eat and some of that dreadful coffee you love so much,” Varric smarted at her. Leaning down she wrapped her small but muscular arms around him, hugging him tightly.

            Their breakfast was modest stew and freshly baked bread. It was hot and soothed the nervousness in Varric’s stomach.  Last he’d heard from Hawke there was hell to be raised and he would be the one to raise it. Talia and Hawke were very similar, two assholes who just cared what happened to the people around him. Talia at the moment had a mouthful of bread and cup of coffee in hand. Her large eyes studied a report out of the Exalted Plains. He knew she hated the place. The furrow in her brow told Varric more bad news had reached her ears.

            “More dead are walking,” Talia spoke in her quiet tone, “Maker it never ends.” Shoving more bread in her mouth, she looked up at him. Varric began to speak when Josephine came flying out of the corridor leading to her office, Leliana in tow.

            “Oh Talia I have received wonderful news!” Josephine gushed, the sparkle in her eyes undeniable. The Inquisitor looked up, her expression warry. The two women were friends but Josie’s idea of wonderful was a bit different than most. “Your family is on their way from Ostwick for a visit. The letter was sent weeks ago so they should be here any day.” Josephine shoved the letter into Talia’s hands. The woman in question looked distraught.

            “No they cannot be here; I refuse to have them here!” Talia exclaimed reading the words written by an educated hand. Josephine looked confused but Varric understood. Haven and her time in the Fade, it had changed her.

            “I thought you would be excited to see them, you’re always talking about them.” Josephine fixed a loose hair. Talia looked up nervously, eyes looking for an exit.

            “They can’t be here Josie, Ostwick is safer for them.” Talia’s whole body twitched.

            “I assure you Talia,” Leliana spoke in quiet reassurance, “That nothing will happen to them here or on their journey home. I have my people watching,” The red headed woman put a hand on Talia’s shoulder. The Inquisitor slumped in her chair.

            “All I can do is have faith,” she murmured. Varric had a feeling that too was slipping away.


	10. Kisses in Barns and Broken Ribs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia's parents and siblings arrive but there is good and bad to be had.

            Dorian lay resting in Bull’s bed. His eyes drooped from exertion and a long day of the intimate study of his partner’s body. Bull sat sharpening his axe quietly, attentive on his work. Dorian for once in his life had very little to say. That was the wonderful thing about his relationship with Bull, no words were required. The light filtered in through the window pane, casting brilliant shadows. There was peace to be had…usually. A hand reached up and gripped the window pane opening it with nimble fingers. Bull looked up before registering the copper haired woman throwing herself through the window. Landing on her feet gracefully, Talia looked over at Dorian. She did not appear to care that he was naked nor that he happened to be in Bull’s room. She seemed to be looking for an exit.

            Setting down his axe, Bull stood. Dorian always found it amusing how tiny the female Qunari was. It was hard to believe they shared the same race.

            “My family is here, just breached the courtyard.” Talia fidgeted with her leather armor. Intelligent eyes flashing around the room, they landed on Dorian once more. A plan was visibly being concocted.

            “Whatever you are thinking my dear Talia, absolutely not!” Dorian chuffed from his mountain of pillows. The woman looked at him desperately.

            “All I need is a buffer, a very attractive and Tevinter buffer!” She pleaded, attempting to smile persuasively. Dorian raised a manicured eyebrow and huffed. Compliments did make him happier to assist in any situation.

            “For the love of-” Bull muttered, “They are your family and you miss them. Go talk!” Unceremoniously he gripped the girl by her waist and hoisted her over his shoulder. Talia squawked and gripped onto the harness. Dorian couldn’t help but laugh. For someone so graceful on the battlefield, Talia was all awkward limbs and personality at home.

            “Alright I shall follow, only for my own amusement.” Dorian stepped out of bed.

            Getting dressed, Dorian gripped his staff that leaned against the wall close to the fireplace. Bull taking that as a sign, readjusted his grip on Talia. The walk down the stairs had Talia protesting she would be a good girl and walk. The Iron Bull didn’t believe that for a moment. Dorian followed close behind, the wind ruffling his hair ever so slightly. Despite his protest he had actually come to enjoy the mountain air. Under the Inquisition he had seen a million different impossible things. None however prepared him for the sight of Talia’s family.

            Talia’s mother didn’t seemed surprised when her daughter was dropped at her feet. She did however seem to be surprised by the sight of Bull and Dorian. Recognition dawned on the tall woman’s face. Behind her stood three individuals with progressively odder appearances. The slender but muscular fire-haired human was studying his daughter; a thick red and pepper beard hid his a soft smile. On his back was an intricately carved staff with no magical energy, purely for hitting things with then. Off to his side were two of the most beautiful Qunari Dorian had ever seen. The elegant and cautious looking girl studied him. Bright red hair was yanked up messily into a bun behind her horns; they looked similar to the dragon’s the Inquisition had killed last month. On her back was a gorgeous staff rippling with energy. The jitters of travel clearly having gotten into the girl’s mind. Most unusual was the striking boy standing close to his sister. The mischievous glitter in his eyes was only overshadowed by his amusement and arrogance. His rounded face and grey skin were flawless, sensual lips were pressed lightly together. An attempt, Dorian figured, not to laugh about his elder sister lying sprawled on the ground.

            Talia looked up at her mother with a sheepish grin. White teeth showing in-between her pink lips. Stepping past her daughter, Talia’s mother placed a hand on Bull’s shoulder. To Dorian’s surprise the man didn’t flinch in the slightest.

            “The Iron Bull, I am Khali,” She spoke, “Talia writes of you often, it is odd to find one of our people this far south. Thank you for keeping my daughter out of an early grave,” Her voice was low and heavy. Behind the tall woman Talia stood, straightening herself out. A hurt expression crossed her delicate features, it did not go unnoticed by her mother.

            “And you must be Dorian!” Talia’s excitable father stated. That was how Dorian found himself falling in love with Talia’s little family after five minutes. Their idiosyncrasies and odd personalities made for warmth in his heart.

            “Pleasure,” Dorian said, smiling he shook the man’s hand. Talia rolled her eyes and patted her father’s shoulder.

            “What no love for your daughter?” She snarked at him. Whipping around, her father wrapped his arms around her. She leaned in and there was a glisten in her eyes.

            “James,” Khali whispered harshly. James looked up from where he’d been studying the top of his daughter’s head. Shuffling away, he looked at the two men and snorted.

            “Where are my manners, these are our other two children. Tavis and Thea.” He waved them over with calloused hands. Tavis smirked down at his older sister.

            “Well at least you keep attractive company,” He shoved her shoulder. Playfully Talia shoved him back harder, stern look crossing her dainty features.

            “Behave little brother; I have actually cells instead of broom closets to lock you in now!” Talia gave him a half-hearted punch in the shoulder. Thea did nothing more than lean down and wrap her large body around her sister. Dorian noticed the panicked expression on the younger girl’s face. As though Talia would evaporate if she let go.

            The click of heels and soft smell of amber told Dorian that Josephine was approaching. In tail was the Inquisitor’s advisors each with a curious expression.

            “May I present to you my advisors. Lady Josephine Montilyet, the Inquisition’s ambassador. Whom I know you’ve been in contact with,” Talia shot her father a knowing look, “Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. Leliana, my spymaster.” The last was said with another pointed look at her father. Josephine nodded her head in response, eyes glittering like a gem.

            “We were so excited to meet you all; Talia never stops talking about you!” She exclaimed, a bit of girlish charm seeping through. James immediately fell to Leliana’s side. His knowing look sent a chill down Dorian’s spine. It was clear Lord Trevelyan did more than farm and take care of his land. Khali on the other hand stayed close to Bull, observing Talia. That surprised Dorian, he expected her to be more warry. Thea still gripped her sister tightly, Dorian realized the two of them were close. Khali on the other hand had a cold look on her face.

            “We need to spar,” Khali spoke out, skipping pleasantries. Talia looked up at her mother, eyes searching for something she couldn’t see.

            “You’ve only just gotten here?” Talia questioned, the look on her face unreadable. Bull tensed and Dorian placed a hand on his back.

            “Yes and the road has made me antsy; go get your weapons.” Turning Talia left her family in the hands of her makeshift one.

            Talia twirled her metal staff in her hands. The metal reflected light in every direction. Dorian and Bull stood close to one another. It didn’t take a lot for Dorian to notice his partner was uncomfortable with the situation. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on the railing of the fence. A crowd had gathered, including Talia’s family.

            “I hope Mum isn’t too harsh with her,” Thea murmured beside him. The worried expression on her face did not bode well. Khali watched her daughter’s posture, analyzing the stance she took. Very suddenly Dorian felt ill. Then came the first clack of metal on metal.

            “You’ve reverted back to bad habits,” Khali spoke harshly, twisting her staff for another blow. “You aren’t properly bracing your back foot.” She gave a heavy downward blow and dodged out of the way as Talia retaliated.

            “I don’t always have time for perfect form in field Mother,” Talia spoke evenly. Her expression was cold, Dorian clenched his jaw. Then came the most magnificent series of movements Dorian had ever seen preformed. He had seen Talia preform similar sets of movement but nowhere as precise and deadly as Khali. Dorian knew how to fight in close quarter with his staff should he ever run out of mana. However the two women made what he could do look like trash. The two of the struck and parried, Khali landing more blows than her daughter. Dorian noticed it. The pinch in Talia’s expression, she only got that when she was cornered.

            “You can barely keep up!” Khali hissed at her daughter. Beside him Thea flinched as a hard blow hit Talia’s ribs. Collapsing to the floor, Talia sucked in a gasping breath before attempting to stand. Quickly her mother stuck against the same spot. Bones snapping could be heard. Tavis grimaced this time, all the glitter from before disappearing. “You fight like you are afraid! Get up and fight!” Khali snarled. Talia had been hit on the side that had taken damage in Haven and the Fade. Face bright red, Talia wheezed for breath. Dorian was already moving to hop the fence. Talia was reeling away from her mother, pushing away. “How do you expect to win when you can’t even stand against me for mere moments. You are weak! You will never succeed if you insist on just taking the beating.” Khali laid a kick into Talia’s side once again exploiting the weakness.

            Dorian reached Talia and raised a hand to pacify the larger woman. He could feel the woman’s anger and Talia’s fear. It seeped off of her in waves.

            “I think she has had enough,” Dorian quietly assessed to Khali. The woman brought her staff to rest at her side. Turning on her heels she marched back towards the silent crowd. Reaching down, Dorian helped Talia stand. Her face was flushed with embarrassment.

            “Come, I will help you to your quarters,” He stated quietly, using his body to shield her from view.

            Once inside the quarters Talia occupied, Dorian gestured for her to remove her top. Instantly he grimaced. The top of her ribs near her breast were already bruising. The vicious patterns of blue and purple looked like an ink stain on white silk.

            “I don’t have the greatest talent for healing but I will do my best to ease your discomfort,” Dorian spoke with great care. Talia clenched and unclenched her fists. The anger in Talia’s eyes was unlike anything he’d seen before.

            “She loves to remind me that I am weak and everything I do is obsolete,” Talia grimaced as Dorian applied pressure with his hand.

            “You speak so fondly of her; I didn’t expect her to be so cold.” Dorian sent a wave of magic through her body. Talia placed a cool hand on his cheek, eyes sadder now.  He saw what Bull meant when he saw that she was ‘getting close to a cliff and getting ready to jump off’.

            “She is loving in her own way,” Talia paused to shift, “But she uses force instead of reinforcement and ugly words instead of kind ones. She taught me how to cook. She taught me to speak her language. Never not once in my teen or adult years has she said that she is proud of me. I suspect that she’s angry that I can’t come home, that I have almost died three times now, and that I am still managing to fucking fumble around like a child!” She seethed out the last words. Dorian knew that kind of self-deprecation like an old friend. Gently he pulled his hand away, placing it on her bare shoulder.

            “You stupid, incredibly kind girl.” He tutted at her, “You are neither a failure or responsible for what path fate has given you. You’ve helped me realize who I am without judgment or pause. You help everyone, even in the smallest of ways.” Dorian smiled at the girl.

            _Dorian sat perched in his comfy chair reading another one of the Chantry indoctrinated books that infested the library. He had much in on his mind. After the dealings with his father and the conversation with Talia he felt…well better. There was something that was bothering him though. Bull had become more forward. His advances on Dorian became more and more noticeable. He didn’t know what to make of open flirting with someone of the same gender. Sure, flirting with Talia was comforting. A banter that eased his mind in hard times. Bull on the other hand left him, nervous._

_Peaches. Vanilla. Citrus. All three scents hit his nose at once. Looking up he saw the small girl settle onto the arm of his seat. Passing him a bottle of wine, she stared into her eyes with so much empathy he had to look away._

_“When I was about seventeen I met a girl named Kaya,” She said in a matter of fact tone. Her facial expression warped into pure sunshine. “She was tall and slender. Her hair was the color of cream. Whenever she was around you could feel the room warm up. I was fierce back then and a little too angry. And then one day I was out in the fields feeling like I was eating myself alive. She comes along and she sits down in the dirt and listens to me scream about life. When I was done she looked up at asked me if I was done. God I was pissed. Then she told me a story about how she was taken from her mother in Kirkwall. Sold as a slave. My family had been the first kind faces she had seen in a long time. Soon enough I was sitting in the dirt. Just enraptured by her stories of life and suddenly I realized I hadn’t thought about my woes the entire time.” Talia popped the cork on the bottle. Dorian was failing to see the point of the lecture. He raised an eyebrow and Talia continued. “For months we ate together, trained together, and raised hell together. When I looked at her I would just get this feeling of my skin being too tight. I had no idea what that meant. Then one day we were sitting in the barn closest to the house. She leaned over and kissed me. I was never happier,” Talia smiled at the memory. Dorian’s heart contracted. That explained why Talia hadn’t so much as blinked at the idea of him being gay._

_“What happened, is she still around?” Dorian questioned, cocking his head to the side. Talia laughed but the expression on her face told a different story. Heartbreak._

_“It was late in the fall, right when all the trees turned around the farm. She said she was going into town for something. I remember the expression on her face after she kissed me goodbye. The sideways grin she always gave me when she was planning something. I waited two days, she didn’t come back. Xander and I rode into town. Went to the bakery she loved so much. Her blood was still splattered on the exterior walls. Tevinter slavers had passed through, one recognized her. They slit her throat and left her there to die like a dog in a gutter.” Talia wiped the palm of her hand against her cheek, “The point of this is, I see how you look at Bull. Whether it’s lust or something else, it is not my place to say. However I will say, don’t leave it. Spend time with him, have some fun. If more happens then go from there. But don’t squander any time you may have with him. The regret of not doing anything because of your leftover fears will do you no good Dorian.” She took a long sip from the bottle. Dorian remained silent but took the bottle from her hands when she passed it._

_“Might I tempt you with a long and overdrawn discussion of all the fabulous butts around here?” Dorian questioned, attempting to lighten the mood. Looking down at him and laughing, Talia nodded. Sliding off the seat, she slipped into the part of the cushion unoccupied by him._

_“Cullen has a great butt,” Talia whispered quietly, actually afraid that someone might hear her. Dorian nodded in silent agreement. Making a gesture with his hands, Dorian could simply picture it._

_“Those leather breeches he wears are absolute sin,” Dorian added. Talia took another sip of wine. He knew she could drink him under the table if she wanted, for once she showed restraint._

_“You know whose delightful ass I would love to get my hands on?” Talia barked out a laugh as she pictured it in her head. Dorian couldn’t begin to guess, she’d never shown any romantic inclination towards anyone in Skyhold._

_“And who would that be?” He smirked, reaching up he fixed a messy strand of hair. Wickedly, Talia smiled back at him._

_“Hawke.”_

            No, Dorian didn’t like the idea of Talia hating herself. It was damnable. The fact that someone so compassionate, could feel so lost was infuriating. The swelling in her side had gone down considerably. The tired look on her face had not.

            “I will leave you to your thoughts for a while,” Dorian stood, “I will be in the dining hall if you need anything. Take a bath and get wonderfully drunk. It’s just been that kind of day.” He left closing the door behind him. Taking a deep breath, Dorian marched down the stairs.

            Upon entering the main hall his gaze laser focused on Khali and her family. Apparently his stomping could be head from a distance. Bull’s head shot towards him; he was sitting next to Thea, both talking in hushed tones.

            “What in Andraste’s name were you thinking speaking to Talia that way!” He hissed at Khali as he approached. Bull gave him a harsh warning look. “You daughter deserves more than to be beat down like a dog and ridiculed like a child in front of the people she leads. That was a proper piss poor sparring match. You did nothing more than reopen wounds and humiliate her.” Khali looked taken aback. Beside her, James did not step up to his wife’s defense.

            “Dorian that is enough,” Bull commanded, taking a tone Dorian didn’t like. Crossing his arms in front of him, Dorian planted himself firmly.

            “Talia is not weak,” He snapped, “She is damaged and reeling from the trauma this blighted world brought to her. No one has ever once asked her if she wants this job! Yet she does it, regardless of the physical or mental strain it puts on her.” Dorian threw his hands in the air. Promptly he turned and left the hall. Fuming he made his way straight to Bull’s quarters.

            After he had settled, Dorian realized that Talia could very well be looking for him. Guilt clawed at his skull. Internally he knew she was likely drinking herself into a fine oblivion. In frustration he threw his shoes at the door, narrowly missing Bull’s head.

            “Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you all riled up but what on earth was that about?” Bull asked his partner. Dorian shot him a look that he hoped would convey his anger. Taking a hint Bull approached with caution.

            “Her mother humiliated her, beat her senseless. Re-broke the ribs Talia damaged in the Fade and you are asking me why?” Dorian huffed out. Bull sat down on the bed.

            “Her mother was harsh but from what I understand Khali originally trained in the Qunari military. Her magic showed very late.” Bull tapped his fingers against his chest. “Her name literally means energy or loosely translated power. They probably had her pegged as an Antaam. She trained Talia as harshly as she was likely trained. I worried about the physical side of the beating, not her bruised heart. Should have caught that.” Bull explained simply. Dorian deflated.

            “You said it yourself, she’s falling. Soon she will just be a shell of what she was. Her mother did not help her.” Dorian said. Bull thoughtfully looked at Dorian.

            “Yeah, she seems to treat all of them the same. Except Tavis, she definitely has a special place in her heart for him.” Dorian snorted. He could still see the arrogance and mischief on the young Qunari’s face.

            “He looks just like Talia described. Arrogant and unusually beautiful.” Dorian remarked, he felt the tiredness returning.

            “We could always invite him to bed, I bet he would be fun.” Bull laid down. Dorian gaped at him.

            “We are not discussing this now or ever!” He huffed, laying down next to his partner.

 

             

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pansexual Talia is very important to me. Kaya is based off an old friend I lost, in a less serious way. That heartache never goes away.


	11. Slavers and Saviors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall realizes something about Talia's personality.

   "Get up!" Blackwall started from Talia's soft voice in his ear. She was leaned over him, dressed in her night shirt and leather breeches. Her eyes were cautious and searching the area surrounding them. Something was wrong, he'd never seen her startled quite like this. Pointing with two fingers past he clearing they were camped in, he followed her eyes. Torches.  “Slavers,” She whispered to him. Glancing around the camp, Blackwall saw that Bull was up too. The large Qunari was shaking Dorian from sleep, hand press over his mouth. Talia on the other hand had her daggers clutched tight. Creeping forward, she moved silently through the brush out of his eye line. The girl was a damned good scout.

   On her return, Talia eyed the three of them. Dorian looked a little worse than the rest, still low on mana. Her knuckles were white. Whatever she’d seen had not made her happy.

   “Six men total, they have slaves with them.” She looked ready to rip someone’s head off, “They’re children.” Ah, that explained the look on her face. Dorian looked rather put off at the idea of fighting this late.

   “Dorian can’t fight in his shape,” Bull stated, Talia nodded in agreement. Handing Blackwall his shield, Talia gestured at him. He moved in close, the fire in her eyes noticeable in the low light.

   “I will go in first and strike the one guarding the children, you’ll see him immediately. Big scar across his face. After that I will need you and Bull to be ready to help me take down the rest. We can’t take risks with this.” She explained in her quiet tone. Bull and him nodded in agreement. Turning she started her path back through the bushes. He and Bull hung back, not nearly as quiet as her.

   Sure enough the man guarding the children stuck out like a sore thumb. The only reason Blackwall was able to track Talia was because he was looking. The faint glimmer of her body from the shadows she was cloaked in was his only clue. He grimaced as she reached up and wrapped her left hand securely around his mouth and drug her blade across his neck. The man collapsed onto the ground, blood spurting everywhere. Blackwall moved from the shadows as soon as the other slavers heard the thud. No mages, good.

   Four down, two to go. Judging by the crunch behind him, one to go. The man squared off with Blackwall. Big man, shield held in good form. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Talia dash forward. Her right hook, which he knew from experience was brutal, caught the man by surprise. He fell to the ground with Talia on top of him. Pausing any movement, Blackwall glanced towards the children. All were awake and watching Talia. Straddling his waist, Talia held down the man’s arms with her powerful legs.

   “Where did you take them from?” She growled at him. The man looked up at her and laughed. It was cut short when she stabbed him in the shoulder with one of the knives she kept in her boot. “The next one is going in your groin.” She twisted the blade. Bull was getting the children up, ushering them away from the scene. Blackwall stayed behind just in case the woman needed help. He doubted she would.

   “Go to hell!” The man spat at her. Losing her patience Talia kept true to her word. Blackwall grimaced at the man’s scream, feeling a bit of sympathy.

   “Starkhaven, we took them from Starkhaven!” He gasped out. Talia looked down at him, long hair falling out of the braid she liked to keep it in at night. Dropping the knife in her hand, Talia punched the man in the face. The crunch of a nose breaking echoed around the forest.

   “I cannot decide whether to let you bleed out or just end you quick.” She snarled at him. The scar on her lip pulled when she spoke with that expression. The man had genuine fear in his eyes.

   “You are one cruel bitch!” The man spat out. Talia tipped her head back and barked out a cold laugh. Looking him dead in the eyes she spoke with more venom than Blackwall thought her capable of.

   “I’m the Shadow of Ostwick, the only people who meet my blade are slavers, Red Templars, and corrupt mages. The rest are safe. Think of where life would have lead you if you had chosen a different profession.” Talia quickly punctured his artery. The life quickly drained from the man’s eyes.

   Blackwall silently followed Talia. Upon arrival he could see Dorian settling a bright eyed girl into his tent. The rest were staring at Talia in quiet awe. Splattered with the blood of their captors, he could picture the heroes they looked to be. A raven haired girl, no more than six bounced over to Blackwall and Talia. The Inquisitor crouched down to eye level. The little girl smiled up at her with a toothy grin, eyes still sleepy.

   “Thank you!” She lisped out. Talia smiled softly and then gently touched the girl’s shoulder. Blackwall noticed the clinical way she checked the girl’s body for marks. Approving of the girl’s state, Talia cupped her cheek.

   “What’s your name little one?” She questioned, voice soft. The little girl looked up at her with wide blue eyes. An Elf, Blackwall realized.

   “Renee, but I like when people call me Ren.” Ren then pointed to the blood on Talia’s face, “Did you make sure the men couldn’t follow us?” She whispered, as though she still feared they might appear out of the woods. Talia’s expression softened.

   “Yes Ren, we will get you home or find you a new one. Do you have parents?” Talia continued her string of questions. Ren shook her head, curls bouncing at the action.

  “I’m an orphan, so are the rest.” Ren replied, surprisingly well spoken for her age. Blackwall then crouched down, soft smile on his lips.

   “Well Lass, I will say that the Inquisitor has a castle with plenty of room.” Ren’s face lit up. The idea of a castle to the little girl seemed to be enticing and her excitement showed.

   “Is it really a castle!” She exclaimed in excitement. Talia swiped a hand through the girl’s hair.

   “Of course it is!” Talia spoke warmly, “And I need plenty of princes and princesses running about to keep those snobby nobles in check. You could definitely assist Lady Sera in her quests!” She revealed to the little girl. Ren was practically bouncing.

   “Enough of all this,” Black murmured, “Get onto bed, you will need to rest for the journey tomorrow.” He smiled as he watched Ren bounce over to the other children.

   Back at Skyhold the children were settling in nicely. Ren, as Talia had suspected, had immediately taken to Sera. The two of them were sitting in the grass, both stained green. Talia stood next to Blackwall, still hiding from her mother. The soft look in her eye as she watched the group of three children mill about the courtyard was hard to miss.

   “Shall I assume you like children?” He questioned. Glancing away for a moment, Talia graced him with a smile.

   “Very much so,” was all she said. Blackwall watched as Sera pretended to fall dead to the ground in their little game of make believe. It had been a fierce battle.

   “That was the most brutal I have ever seen you be, you’ve got a mean streak in you.” He laughed at Talia’s fearsome look. Her hand tightened on the old oak of the nearest stall of the barn.

“I most certainly do,”

 

 


	12. Old and New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of background as Talia experiences the loneliness that has began to infect her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over the next few days I am packing up my things and moving across the country. Internet will be spotty. Sorry if the updates are a bit slower than usual.

            Talia squirmed under Tavis’s gaze. It unnerved her that her brother was watching her so closely. He didn’t do that unless he wanted something. Judging by the way he was glancing at Dorian, he did.

            “Absolutely not,” Talia spoke before he had the chance to speak. Her brother’s grassy colored eyes were shining. His lips quirked into a smile before taking a long sip from his ale. Talia knew that there was one thing Tavis was good at, getting what he wanted. However, Talia also knew Dorian. Her brother might be biting off more than he could chew with the Tevinter mage.

            “My dear sister, I know not of which you speak!” Tavis smirked. Talia pointed a finger at him and kept her face stern.

            “Dorian is a dear and precious friend; if you upset him I really will lock you in a cell for at least one night.” She smarted at him. Rolling his eyes, Tavis stood. Muscles in his shoulders rolling, Talia marveled at how big he’d gotten. Everything had changed, except for Talia. Most recently it seemed everyone around Skyhold was falling in love or finding a partner. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.

            Cassandra was quite taken with Xander. He made no attempt to hide that the two of them were in the middle of a heated courtship. Thea had latched onto Josephine rather quickly. There had been a duel for her affections a week or so ago. Tavis had his mind set on Dorian and Talia honestly hoped it went badly. Cullen had met one of Leliana’s spies, Lavellan as Talia knew her. A slight girl with the brightest eyes and a kind heart, perfect for one another. It seemed that Talia herself was meant to be alone. In the back of her mind, she could still remember a time when she was happier, brighter.

            _“You are insatiable!” Talia laughed as Kaya swept a gentle hand down her side. The light haired woman smiled down at her. The quirk of a smile crossed Kaya full lips. Leaning down she kissed Talia’s throat. The gentle pressure had Talia sighing in delight. Kaya smiled against her neck just breathing in the smaller woman’s presence._

_“And you are delightful,” Kaya murmured. Soft grey eyes studied Talia with the ease of comfortable partnership. Talia had been uncomfortable with the intimacy Kaya always shared so easily. The way she looked at her bare body like she was a god could be too much._

_“What would you like to do today my love?” Talia asked, caressing Kaya’s neck. The woman leaned into her touch. Sliding over Talia, Kaya straddled her hips. Soft skin, it left Talia wanting._

_“I think we should stay in, we’ve done quite enough this week.” Kaya ran a lazy hand through her tangled hair. It was kept cropped at her shoulders. It curled in little tendrils and always found its way into Kaya’s eyes. Tracing the knotted heart tattooed on Kaya’s chest, Talia lovingly studied her. The pale haired woman’s fingers fell to the identical tattoo on Talia’s ribs. A promise the two of them had made a year or so ago. They were not married by law but by their joining of souls._

_“Mum wants-” Kaya shushed her with a gentle kiss. Expectantly, Talia looked up through heavy lashes._

_“Bugger what your mother wants; I haven’t had a day with you in ages.” Kaya placed a kiss at the crown of her head. Laughing, Talia shoved Kaya to the side. Draping her arm over Kaya’s torso, she laid her head on the woman’s shoulder._

_“Fine, I suppose we must stay in bed then! No one could possibly find us here.” Talia nuzzled into Kaya’s freckled neck. Warm, always so warm. She smelled of cloves and earth._

_Eventually Kaya did adventure from bed, only to grab something resting in her dresser drawer. Nervously the tall, slender woman sat back in bed. Her long fingers danced on top of the box she held._

_“I have something I would like to give you,” Kaya spoke quietly, “It is alright if you say no but I hope you don’t.” She nervously carded a hand through her messy hair. Talia propped herself up on her elbow. A small, intricately woven metal ring rested in the box. Talia couldn’t help the fact that her jaw dropped. Slowly she slipped it onto her finger._

_“What do you say we give it go?” Kaya smirked, twinkle in her eye._

            The resounding slap could be heard throughout the Tavern. Bull was attempting not to laugh but Krem was chuckling. Dorian huffed indignantly, face brightening. Tavis on the other hand still managed to look proud of himself despite blatant rejection. In its own way a slap was a sign of passion, well a passionate person. Talia hid a little smile with the sleeve of her shirt. Loneliness was something she could handle when she had her misfits around her.

            Standing she strode over to where Dorian and her brother stood. Handing Dorian her alcoholic beverage, Talia patted her brother’s shoulder.

            “It’s alright Brother,” She coaxed, “There are plenty of men and women out there for you to sleep with.” Talia tipped her head back and laughed. The white of her teeth noticeably visible for the first time in months. Tavis wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulder; the weight of his muscles weighed down on her thin shoulders. She knew he could sense how skinny she’d gotten but the light never left his eyes.

            “You are right dear sister, I must go out and seize the day!” He joked, “But you are the one who needs a good romp. Too uptight, all you are anymore is a rather crazy politician. Talia’s heart tightened. She didn’t want to go for a simple romp with someone. She wanted companionship, love, comfort.

            “I am quite alright Tavis,” She spoke evenly, “World knows what being with someone like me would be difficult.” Talia twisted at the side of her pants. Dorian noticing her discomfort, attempted to change the subject.

            “Talia, a little bird whispered that we will likely be leaving for the Exalted Plains within the next few days,” He spoke as cheerfully as he dared, “Maker knows you hate that place as much as I do!” He chuckled. Talia glanced up at him thankfully.

            “I want to make sure the Dalish clan isn’t bothered by travelers. Help them in any way possible. That and there are two active rifts in the area. I just hope the undead aren’t causing anymore problems,” She added dutifully. Dorian gave a look of distaste, caught immediately by Tavis.

            “Is it really that bad there, all I’ve ever heard from your party members is that the dead and demons infest the place. Cassandra mentioned that the area itself is rather beautiful.” Tavis took a swig of whatever poison he’d chosen that night.

            “The smell of decaying flesh and the grip of demons is everywhere. The soldiers there are fighting a war on sacred ground they have no business being on. The small clan of Dalish in the area are fighting to survive, as well as pay homage to their ancestors. There are rifts dotting the area. Most of all, every time we go there I cannot help but feel as though I am trespassing.” Talia listed out. Tavis nodded his head in understanding.

            “Reminded me to never go there on vacation,”

            Crawling into bed, Talia tossed and turned. She had left the windows open on purpose, cool air soothed itchy skin. Tugging the blankets up higher she considered the world she lived in. Secretly she wished to never leave the bed again. Talia knew what this was, despair. It had slowly been creeping into her system since Haven. It seemed to never end. The loneliness, the death, and the endless sea of people were utterly destroying her. In all her life she had never entertained the idea of being powerful. All she had wanted was to settle down on her parent’s land and lead a reclusive life.

            She’d never been good at making friends. Kaya had been the first person to just want to know her. When Talia had lost her, the weight of the loss had been devastating. When the Inquisition happened and she’d found a group of people to love and be loved by, that was something else. She wasn’t happy, more content than anything. Varric seemed to understand the type of pain she felt. He’d apparently watched Hawke go through a similar ordeal in Kirkwall. She could hardly imagine the snarky hero ever being depressed. Heroes never get their happy ending. They either lived to see the way their actions shaped the world around them or they died. It was simple really. She really hoped she wouldn’t die at the end of hers.

_The morgue was too cold. The pin pricks of fear adding to the affect. Xander had his large hand braced on Talia’s back; he was quiet, unsure of what to say. When they entered a room with a large table in it, her heart seized. A body lay covered with a sheet. The Mortalitasi ushered them in._

_“Now Lady Trevelyan, I will need you to identify the body.” The old man spoke, his eye saddened. Gulping, Talia nodded. The sheet was pulled down. The whole world froze. All she could smell was the copper of blood. The only sight she could see was her wife’s lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The only thing she could feel was unadulterated rage. Kaya’s body was clean but Talia could still smell blood. The slit at her throat had been stitched back together, as though her wife was a doll who’d ripped a seam. Talia felt sick._

_“That’s-” She had to stop and clear her throat, “Yes, that is her.” Talia turned away, hand brushing the tattoo on her side. Xander turned to the old man and spoke evenly._

_“When can we take the body home?” He questioned, “She will need a proper burial.” His hand just barely brushed Talia’s shoulder._

_“You can bring her home later today. I will have her effects brought to you. Lady Trevelyan I am very sorry for your loss.” The words meant nothing._

_Once outside the building Talia gulped in a deep breath. Xander stood quietly, watching and waiting._

_“I’m going out, see to it that my wife makes it home safe.” She spoke coldly and started walking towards the woods. Tevinter shoes were easy to track in the forest. Xander didn’t follow just watched her go, for that she was thankful. Talia couldn’t burry the woman she loved, she wouldn’t. That would mean that Kaya was gone. That there was nothing of the life they shared left. Just fading memories that Talia would slowly forget._

_It had been two days and Talia was close. The tracks were fresh. The signs were pointing towards them heading for the nearest town. They weren’t a smart lot. It was about midnight when she saw their camp. Four men, all of them sitting on various things about a campfire. They had two teens with them. A scrawny blond girl clung to the slightly older boy for warmth. The boy couldn’t have been older than sixteen. They were smart, clearly having survived on their own long before this. They were both gorgeous. Talia knew what happened to gorgeous slaves in Tevinter._

_Talia didn’t bother to cloak herself in shadows. Stepping from them was almost as satisfying. No one had heard her approach. She was light on her feet and just as much of the night as the shadows were._

_“Who the hell are you!” One of them scratched out, voice gruff. Talia tipped her head to the side._

_“I suppose that depends on who you ask,” She spoke, “In these parts most call me by my title, sometimes by my first name, or in your case the wife of the woman you killed in the last village you stopped at.” She moved slowly towards them. All of the men were tense._

_“That whore?” Talia kept the anger off of her face, “You can find them all over the place didn-“ with a flick of her wrist the man was on the ground choking on his own blood. No one in the camp had seen her move. One moment she’d been standing peaceful on the edge of the clearing, now she stood daggers in hand. The men must have sensed the angry aura around her, drawing their weapons. None of them carried shields, that would make things much easier. Twisting, Talia kicked the tallest man’s knee out. The crunch of his knee cap was audible through the campsite. A well placed stab up through his ribs punctured a lung. He collapsed, the air betraying him. Dodging a blow meant for side of her head, Talia flattened her palm and punched into next man’s solar plexus. Gripping the back of his head she bashed his head into her knee. Twisting him around, the killing blow came from the precise stab to the jugular that her mother had taught her._

_When she turned on the last man, he looked ready to die. He had no fear in his eyes. He had no emotion at all. Seeking to change that Talia once again moved faster than a normal person could or should. Her hand found purchase in his hair and she dragged him to the ground. The surprise on his face was worth it. Placing her knee onto his throat she glanced down at him as though he were an ant under her boot._

_“You know what I find funny?” Talia asked, “That visitors to these parts are surprised by our wildlife. We have bears, feral pigs, and some wonderful scavenging animals.” He struggled against her. Rolling him onto his side, Talia pushed his hip with her boot and pulled back on his shoulders. The sickening snap was satisfying to her ears. “Wolves will eat anything, if they’re hungry enough. Trust me, this time of year they are.” She drug her blade across his wrist, not deep enough to kill. “So I will leave you here for them, they will pick apart your body. If you die of thirst first, that’ll be okay too,” She smiled down at him_

_The two slaves looked at her with caution. The older ones always were. The girl on closer inspection was relatively beat up. Her shoulder was out of the socket and her right eye was black. Someone had done a number on her._

_“What’re your names?” Talia asked, crouching down to cut their bonds. The boy, noticing good will, spoke first._

_“Charlie, and this is my friend Mila.” He rubbed the stiffness from his wrists. Looking him in the eyes, Talia considered the possibilities._

_“You two are welcome to follow me home. My family owns lots of land and we need farmhands. You will be compensated for your work. Even if it is a temporary sanctuary while you look for family or prepare to trek back home.” Talia attempted a smile. To her surprise it was Mila who spoke._

_“We have no one but each other. We will serve you.” The girl looked up at Talia determined. Shaking her head, Talia outstretched her hand and placed one on each teen’s shoulder._

_“You will never serve anyone again. I have no need for servants, you will be treated as equals. If you have trouble you come to me. Understood?” She questioned. Both nodded their heads._

_“You saved us. Why?” Charlie asked._

_“Because no one bothered to save my wife,”_


	13. The Wolf and the Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas takes a trip to the Fade after learning about Talia's wife

                Solas heard the soft padding of bare feet against the stone floor of his “office”. Talia poked her head into the room and smiled at him.

                “Hello my friend,” She chirped at him. He enjoyed the sound of her melodic voice. It was refreshing to meet someone so interested in his culture and studies. Talia was well read and enjoyed hearing him speak on the Fade, something she had little experience with. She knew not who he truly was but respected his advice and counsel. It brought him great pride and joy to mentor the girl. The mark on her hand always sung to him when she was in the room. He was surprised she didn’t feel how similar his magic and the mark’s was.

                “Inquisitor, what can I do for you?” He asked setting down a dusty old tome. Coming to stand by him, she set a beautifully carved elven charm on his desk. It was a wolf, not unlike the ones found in Dalish camps.

                “I was digging through some of my things that my mother brought to me,” She smiled, “This amulet was my wife’s, she never took it off. Until I met her I didn’t know that people worshiped Fen’harel. I thought you might like to see it.” She placed her hand on the desk.

                Solas was rarely surprised but Talia seemed to find a new way every single day. He had not known she been married, much less to an elf. Nor would he have expected Talia’s wife to have been a priestess or more likely a descendant of one.

                “This is a very rare and incredible amulet,” Solas explained, “It belonged to the priests and priestesses who carried out the will of Fen’harel. Your wife was likely descended from their line.” He caressed the stone wolf. Talia’s eyes lit up with interest.

                “She wasn’t Dalish, her mother and father lived in isolation until she was taken by Tevinter slavers at a young age.” Talia told him, hands moving quickly. Solas would never get over how expressive she could be. “You would have loved her. She was elegant and wise like you. She knew everything there was to know about growing plants and tending to the land. Kaya was a magnificent teacher and friend before she was ever my wife. She was also rather wicked in her own way.” Talia smiled. Solas couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at the edge of his lips. She was close to Fen’harel before ever even meeting him. The Irony of the situation was lost on all but him.

                Studying the amulet once more, Solas looked to Talia.

                “Would you mind if I kept this for today. I would very much like to study it?” He asked her, knowing it must have been precious. Talia nodded before bouncing towards the door.

                “Keep it as long as you like,” Talia smiled at him, “Kaya would like that it is being appreciated.”

                Amulet clasped in his hand, Solas let himself fall into the Fade. Immediately he sought the energy that still clung to the amulet. If he was right, Solas would be able to seek out Kaya in the Fade. He ended up near a brook near a large farm.  In the distance he could see a white mansion sitting proudly on a hill.

                “Andran atish’an Fen’harel,” Came a quiet voice behind him. Turning he drank in the sight of the tall elf standing near an apple tree. Her strawberry blond hair fell messily in her eyes and she wore a devious grin on her face. Extending a hand to her, he greeted her with a kiss to the cheek. One of his children stood smiling at him.

                “Hello Kaya,” He replied, she looked startled. Solas extended the amulet to her. The girl’s face fell in sadness.

                “Oh,” Her voice wavered. Gently she pulled it from his grasp.

                “Your wife keeps this with her,” He spoke softly, “She spoke so highly of you that I had to seek you out.” Kaya looked up at him. Her long fingers ran along the edges of the amulet.

                “Is she-” Kaya trailed off, her eyes unable to meet his. Solas placed a hand on the girl’s thin shoulder, under the robes she wore he could feel thick muscle.

                “Talia is fine, practically ruling of Thedas these days.” He told her gently. Kaya’s eyes snapped up, bewildered.

                “My Talia is ruling over something?” She said incredulous. Solas barked out a laugh and gestured for her to sit.

                “We have much to discuss Da’len,”

                The two sat quietly by the stream. Solas regaled Kaya with the story of Talia’s unfortunate if not odd situation. The girl watched him with curious and intelligent eyes so similar to her wife’s. Kaya asked so many questions. Was Talia eating enough? Was she sleeping through the night? Was she getting along with her mother? All of them directed at him in mild panic and joy.

                “I miss her,” Was the last thing Kaya stated. The look in the girl’s eyes was far away, almost mourning. Solas smiled at the descendant of one of the slaves he freed. Talia had done the same for her, he’d learned.

                “And she misses you Kaya,” Solas spoke. He understood now that Kaya was here because she was the embodiment of compassion and love. A new spirit forming with the memories of her life still intact. She was like Cole, kind and loving. He could see why Talia had loved her so much. Solas also knew he could never tell Talia of Kaya’s existence in the Fade. It would destroy her.

                The two of them said their goodbyes and Solas promised to meet her in the Fade the following night. He had made a new friend, met a young spirit slowly forming. When he woke up, he traced the stone wolf once more. How odd that his actions thousands of years prior to recent events gave a dear friend the woman she loved. For a moment the mistakes of Fen’harel seemed less of a weight than before. Leaving his office and climbing the stairs to Talia’s quarters he knocked on the door. Talia answered. She wore a simple dress made of sunflower colored cotton. He handed the amulet back with care.

                “Thank you for sharing this with me,” he said kindly. Her tiny fingers wrapped around the wolf. “If you have time I would like to hear more about Kaya,” she nodded, red curls bouncing. That was the day that Talia became more than just the Inquisitor and his friend. She became family.


End file.
